


No Tomorrow (Stay With Me)

by lonelyhourglass47



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Anxiety, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Bulimia, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyhourglass47/pseuds/lonelyhourglass47
Summary: Some unfortunate souls have mental illnesses, self-confidence issues, eating disorders, etc. Ethan just happens to have all three.He can't help but worry about Mark finding out about any of it, because Ethan doesn't want to lose his best friend.What he doesn't know is how willing Mark is to help, especially because the man has repressed feelings for Ethan that he's ignored due to his having a girlfriend.Can Ethan receive the help he needs to finally get better, and maybe get a little more than he bargained for along the way?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 41
Kudos: 246





	1. Hidden Battles

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I feel so bad for giving Ethan a bunch of horrible issues in this fic, and I would hate to see him have any of them in real life! I promise there will be a happy ending. Also, I don’t actively ship Ethan and Mark in real life, and I wholeheartedly respect their relationships with their girlfriends (who are precious and amazing). I only write this ship for fun!
> 
> I've been reluctant to post this fic anywhere because writing about the issues included in the story can be challenging, and anything I write could end up coming out wrong or sounding the opposite of how I intended it to. But I'm going to post it anyway, because maybe at least one person out there might like what I've written, and then I'll feel like it was a good idea to put my work out there!
> 
> All of the chapters are written already, and I'll probably post a few per day if possible. Hopefully it's enjoyable to read despite the darkness of the plot! Thanks to anyone who gives it a shot; feel free to comment and let me know what you think!

How can someone be strong when all they do is break themself apart? People say that in order to finally want to help yourself, you need to hit rock bottom, but how can you hit rock bottom if you believe you’re properly taking care of yourself (even though your self-care habits differentiate from the norm)?

Ethan knew he had issues. He knew good and well that he hadn’t eaten for three consecutive days, but he needed to lose weight, right? Every time he looked in the mirror, all he saw was a boy who had too much body fat for having such a small form. It didn’t help that he constantly compared his own body to Mark’s, since they were often shirtless in videos thanks to Unus Annus. And as if seeing his excessive weight in the mirror every day wasn’t enough, staring into the glass also gave him something else to be reminded of: 

The scars.

The first time he self-harmed, it was borne out of hatred for his own physical appearance. He remembered it vividly: he was shaving, and once he had rinsed the hair and shaving cream off of his razor, he stopped for a moment, glancing back and forth between the blades and his arm. He inhaled and held his breath, dragging the razor sideways across his forearm without a second thought, his eyes prickling with tears as blood beaded at the surface of the fresh cuts. He did it again, and again, unable to stop until his arm looked as if it had been attacked by vicious animals. He fought back tears as he pressed a towel to the wounds, wincing in pain while waiting for the bleeding to stop. He remembered how the cuts scabbed over, and how he wasn’t harsh enough that first time to cause them to scar. It all went away, and he tried to forget.

Then came the second time he self-harmed. Cooking seemed to be a harmless hobby, and he found himself improving his skill with each meal he made. It was ironic that he hardly ever ate anything he cooked, and he felt horrible for wasting so much food. But still, cooking was fun! One evening, Ethan stood in the kitchen, humming songs while chopping onions. And once he was finished, he rinsed the knife, dried it on a dish towel, and then that urge was back. This time, it wasn’t out of self-loathing; to be honest, he couldn’t think of a reason to do it at all. Yet he still brought the blade down to his forearm, the opposite one this time, and was only acutely aware of how he dragged the knife across his skin. He immediately noticed a difference from the last time. Cuts from a razor are thinner than those of a knife, and with a razor, there are three or four cuts right next to each other due to the object having multiple blades. The cut of a knife is wider, and he found it’s much easier to cut deep with a large, sharp kitchen tool. He remembered seeing the scars a week later, and another week later, and he was scared until they finally disappeared after a month. But what scared him most was the fact that he had done this dance twice now.

The third time he self-harmed, he cut on both arms. His weapon of choice turned out to be a pair of scissors. This particular incident haunted him the most. 

Filming for Unus Annus and getting to spend so much time around friends kept Ethan going. He didn’t expect to ever have an urge to cut himself while in the company of other people. Yet there he was, cutting the fabric for the cursed doll he and Mark were making, and all of his thoughts were interrupted by a terrible nagging, this random desire to hurt himself. He did the one thing he could in the situation: he ignored the urge. Completely ignored it. And he thought he even did a good job of acting normal throughout the rest of the video they filmed. But then, when no one was looking, Ethan slipped the pair of scissors into his front pocket and declared that he needed to use the bathroom; he’d be right back and then he’d help Amy edit. 

This was the worst of his incidents by far.

He stepped into the bathroom, locked the door, pulled up his sleeves, and viciously cut away at his pale skin. By the time he was done, there had to be no more than half a centimeter between each cut on each of his arms, there were so many. The amount of blood was overwhelming; he had lost so much that he felt as though he might pass out. And then he panicked, because he didn’t have anything to use to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t use Mark’s nice white hand towels! Trying to think quickly, he let the water from the sink wash the blood off of his arms, and he carefully dabbed at them with the bottom of his shirt to dry them off before they bled more. When the blood came back, he repeated the process, and after the third wash, the bleeding had significantly receded, enough for him to just pull his sleeves down and thank god he was wearing a black shirt. He knew that at this point, there wouldn’t be enough blood to form wet patches on his sleeves, and he wouldn’t be found out. He made sure that there was no trace of blood on the scissors before putting them back in his pocket and leaving the bathroom before anyone got suspicious.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Ethan remembered how long it had been since he had eaten. He sat up in bed and read the clock on his nightstand: 12:45 pm. He was supposed to meet Mark in fifteen minutes to film for Unus Annus, but the two lived ten minutes away, and Mark wouldn’t mind too much if Ethan showed up a little late. Reluctantly, he dialed Mark’s number on his phone and waited for the ringing to stop so he could hear the deep voice he adored so much.

“Hello?” Mark said.

“Hey Mark, I’m sorry, I just woke up, is it okay if I’m a few minutes late?” Ethan asked, already knowing what his friend’s answer would be.

“Yeah, of course.” He heard Mark chuckle on the other line. “Late night last night?”

Ethan remembered being awake until 4 in the morning trying to focus on editing videos but constantly having to deal with his horrible, self-destructive thoughts and tendencies. He remembered crying, gut-wrenching sobs echoing through his house as he hoped and prayed Kathryn couldn’t hear him from her room. He remembered passing out at his desk from exhaustion and waking up not an hour later, and shuffling into bed to go back to sleep.

“Yeah, something like that. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Good. We have a lot of content to film today,” Mark said.

“I know. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.” Ethan’s mind kept focusing back to the fact that he hadn’t eaten any food whatsoever for three whole days, but that wasn’t a concern for him. He had gone much longer without food before, despite how it physically affected him, the lack of nutrition sucking his energy away and leaving him weak. He noticed how thirsty he was at the moment, however, and he got himself a glass of water after getting dressed for the day. While hydrating, he realized how much hungrier he felt as the water entered his system. His hunger didn’t matter though. He needed to focus on getting to Mark’s house.

In all fairness, Ethan wasn’t always having these issues all at once. His three self-harm incidents had happened at least a month apart from each other, and he had days where he would eat a lot. Though, on the rare occasion that he’d eat as much as a normal human would on a normal day, he’d hate himself for it. He would feel disgusting for eating so much, worry that he’d gain a bunch of weight from it, then he’d consider making himself throw up but immediately realize how awful that’d be. He knew he was borderline anorexic; he didn’t need to be a bulimic too.

Of course, it did hit Ethan from time to time that he has some serious problems. Occasional self-harm, anorexia, crippling self-esteem, anxiety, bipolar depression, it all added up. Not to mention the inconvenience of having acute dyslexia and ADHD. He thought about all of his issues quite often, but he didn’t like to think about his depressive episodes, because they were truly the lowest lows in his life. They were worse than the feeling he got after eating too much, worse than the feeling he got after hurting himself. Fortunately there are both ups and downs in these situations, and he sure did have some cheery days. But every now and then he’d get depressed enough to be physically unable to do much of anything that day. His episodes usually never lasted longer than 24 hours, but there had been a couple of times that he spent almost three days in bed. When he got depressed, it wouldn’t be just a minor inconvenience. It’d render him useless and incapable of finding the motivation to do anything, so he didn’t. He would try so, so hard to get out of bed and go about his normal life, but he couldn’t. It was as though gravity wouldn’t let him move. So he would stay in bed, hidden under the covers with the curtains closed, ignore any notifications from his phone, and think about anything but good things for an entire day. Mark, along with a few other friends, had tried to call him to ask if he was alright, but when they didn’t get a response, no one had ever actually come to visit him. After all, he always ended up fine the next day.

Ethan did his best to not let a depressive episode happen during the year of Unus Annus, because they didn’t always have enough content filmed for multiple videos at one time. If he did ever end up having an episode, he hoped it would be at a time when they had several videos made in advance so that they wouldn’t have to film that day. And as far as Ethan was concerned, Mark didn’t know he had bipolar depression at all. It was probably better that way, since Ethan didn’t want him worrying, but it also left him on edge as he waited for the day that he’d unwillingly have an especially long episode and Mark would find out.

All of that worrying was the source of most of his panic attacks. 

As if everything else wasn’t enough, his anxiety piled on top of it all, and a panic attack could be triggered by anything, no matter how small. He remembered how close he had been to breaking when they had run the military obstacle course, and Mark had trash talked him and insulted him over and over. And Ethan knew it was all just a bit for the video, but a small part of him believed everything Mark was saying, and when your best friend says mean things about you that you’ve always been insecure about, it fucks with you. When he couldn’t get over the wooden wall, he almost collapsed right there. He knew it was a close call; he could feel his breaths become short and his limbs slightly begin to shake. He was good at holding the tears back from his eyes, though, so really it was hard to tell he was having any sort of mental battle.

Mark had seen Ethan have a panic attack before, and he had done everything he could to try to help. Ethan simply thanked him and went home, not wanting to cause any more trouble or be any more of a burden. And the next time they saw each other, they acted like nothing had even happened. Ethan only panicked one time in front of Mark, and he wanted it to stay that way. And he also couldn’t let Mark find out about any of his other problems, because then he’d finally see how much of a mess Ethan was.

Just to remind himself, Ethan went over each of his issues in his mind again, perhaps to see if there was anything he could fix. ADHD. Nope. Dyslexia. Nope. At least he had already learned how to live with those. Bipolar depression. Maybe he could go on medication? But he didn’t want Kathryn to find out about it. Anxiety. How the hell do you fix that? Crippling self-esteem. Nuh-uh, no way could he fix that anytime soon. Self-harm. Eh, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Anorexia. Probably not since he’s still so disgusting-looking. So many problems, why so many?

He snapped himself out of his thoughts and checked the time on his phone. 12:58. Time to finish getting ready and head to Mark’s house. He could deal with this stuff later. For now, he’d push it out of his mind.


	2. Strange Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the first chapter was a good introduction to what this fic is going to entail. From here on out there won't be as many huge detailed paragraphs aside from maybe the last chapter. If you've made it to this second chapter, you've made it past the boring part (unless it's not boring and I just have too high standards for myself).
> 
> Anyway, here's chapter 2!

“So what are we filming first today?” Ethan asked, plopping himself down next to Mark on the couch.

“We are going to test our limits by holding our breaths underwater for as long as possible,” said Mark.

Ethan froze. This meant they would be using Mark’s pool, which also meant he would be expected to wear swimming trunks and nothing else, and he still had scars from the previous time he had self-harmed. “Oh, do we have to film that today? I mean, we have plenty of other ideas,” he said quickly.

“I guess we don’t have to, but it’s supposed to rain next week, so it’d be better if we did a pool video today,” Mark said.

“Oh, uh, I’ll go get changed then I guess.” He remembered that he didn’t bring his swimsuit with him, and instant relief washed over him. “Wait! I didn’t bring my trunks,” he said, trying not to sound too happy about it.

Mark stood up. “Don’t worry about that, you can wear a pair of mine. I’ll go get some.” Ethan’s heart sank. He couldn’t let Mark see his scars, which meant his only option was to keep his long-sleeved shirt on while in the water. He hoped Mark wouldn’t question it.

But of course, he did. “Dude, are you going to wear that in the pool?” he asked, and Ethan stepped away from the water.

“Uh, yeah.”

Mark chuckled. “We’ve literally seen each other naked, man. You’ve been shirtless like a million times on camera.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s also pretty hot today. How can you wear a long-sleeved shirt in this weather?”

“Fuck, Mark, why are you so eager to get me shirtless?” Ethan joked, but it came out sounding angry and nervous.

“Hey, I’m sorry Eth, I’m just confused. Is there a problem with swimming today?”

Ethan wanted to be quiet, he really did. But he felt so, so anxious and nervous about the situation, and he almost couldn’t breathe. “Y-You know what, there is a problem. I just—I can’t do this today. I’ll do literally anything else, but not this. Not now.” His throat felt tight and his lungs burned. Mark took notice of his rapid breaths.

“Hey, that’s okay. We can record something else. It’s all okay.” He motioned for Amy to go inside, who had been standing outside waiting to start filming. Mark approached Ethan slowly, but he backed away.

“I’m fine. Don’t touch me,” Ethan said, almost laughing at his ironic statement. Not only was Mark typically the one who didn’t want to be touched, at least during videos, but Ethan had wanted Mark to give him affection for so long. 

“Are you sure? You’re not breathing right,” Mark said, visibly concerned.

“I’m okay. I just need a minute,” Ethan said, sitting down on the concrete and putting his head in his hands, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

Mark sat down next to him. “Match my breathing,” he said, breathing slowly and loud enough for Ethan to hear. Inhale, exhale, just slow down. It took a while, but eventually their breathing synced up. Mark got up and gave Ethan a sympathetic shoulder pat. He nodded in response, mumbling his thanks.

“Okay, so what do you want to film today?” Mark asked when they went back inside and changed back into normal clothes. He didn’t want to ask Ethan what got him all freaked out about swimming, because he didn’t want him to start panicking again.

“You guys should do a mukbang,” Amy suggested.

“Oh, that’d be fun. Half an hour of eating on camera and trying to make conversation with this guy,” Mark said, putting emphasis on the last two words to make it seem like he didn’t like Ethan. It sort of hurt.

“Yeah, maybe at some point. I couldn’t do that today though, I had a huge breakfast before I came over,” Ethan lied.

“That’s what took you so long? You ate a huge breakfast after waking up at nearly 1 in the afternoon?” Mark asked, laughing.

“Yeah, haha. How else did you think I got so fat?” Ethan said, trying to joke.

“Wait, that’s a joke, right?” Mark asked, ceasing his laughter. Ethan fidgeted in his seat.

“Yeah, of course. I, uh, I don’t eat that much all the time,” he said.

“No, I mean you were joking when you called yourself fat, weren’t you?”

“Y-yeah. Um, hey, why don’t we fix the hole in the wall? That could be a fun video!” Ethan suggested, trying to change the subject. Mark gave him a weird look, but he went along with it.

“Yeah, sure, but what would we fix it with?” he asked.

“Mark, do we still have that entire box full of ramen that you ordered?” Amy asked.

“Obviously. I can’t eat that much ramen in two days,” Mark said.

“Ooh, then let’s fix the hole with ramen!” Ethan said, sounding like himself for the first time that afternoon. 

After filming, Kathryn came over to help Amy edit the video for tomorrow and maybe get started on a few of the others. When she saw Ethan, an odd look crossed her face.

“Wow Ethan, you look kind of dead,” she said. Ethan turned to Mark, giving him a look that said ‘what is she talking about?’

“W-What?” he questioned.

“I mean, I don’t know, you look like you’ve lost weight. You’re also paler than usual,” she explained.

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything,” stated Mark, “but you do look different.”

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” Kathryn asked.

Ethan pursed his lips. “Last night. When I had dinner,” he said, lying. Mark looked at him curiously, realizing that Ethan had lied earlier when he said he ate before he came over to film.

“How about we order some food for everyone?” Mark suggested. “Amy and Kathryn can eat in the office while editing, and you and I can chill down here.”

Kathryn nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll ask Amy what she feels like eating.”

When Kathryn left, Mark turned to Ethan. “Why did you lie to me earlier? I mean, what was the point of that?”

Ethan realized what Mark was talking about, mentally cursing himself for slipping up. “I’m sorry,” he said shamefully. “I don’t know why. It was stupid.”

“It’s okay, I’d just prefer if you don’t lie to me. And there’s no point in lying about little things like that,” said Mark. Ethan nodded.

When their food arrived, Ethan ate only small bits at a time, extremely hungry but refusing to give in to the temptation. When Mark had almost finished, he looked over and saw how much Ethan still had left on his plate.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked him. Ethan shook his head lightly.

“Not really.”

“Come on, you’ve got to be hungry. You haven’t eaten since last night, right?”

Ethan really didn’t want Mark to know, but at the same time, a little part of him was screaming at him, saying ‘I haven’t eaten in three days, Mark, help me get better’. But if Mark started making him eat, he wouldn’t lose any weight. What was ironic though was the fact that if Ethan didn’t want Mark to find out he had a problem, he’d have to eat to prove he was okay. Glancing at Mark, Ethan gave in and dug into his food, wolfing it all down in five minutes. It tasted so good, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so full.

“Huh. I guess you lied about not being hungry then, too,” said Mark. “Dude, why all the lies?”

“Again, I’m sorry. I guess I’m really out of it today,” Ethan responded. Excuses, excuses. He cleared his throat. “Um, I’m going to go to the bathroom, and then I’ll probably head home if we’re done filming.”

Ethan glared at himself in the mirror, pointing out every little thing he disliked about his appearance. Biting his lip, he lifted up his shirt and looked at his stomach. He shouldn’t have eaten so much. All that food was going to make him look even worse. He almost felt nauseous.

He had thought about doing this before, but he never did. It always disgusted him. But today, his own body disgusted him more than the idea of throwing up all the food he ate. Slowly, he got down on his knees and moved his head over the toilet. He took a deep breath, glancing at his fingers before he stuck them down his throat. He almost couldn’t get it to work due to his lack of a gag reflex, but eventually his fingers touched a sensitive part of his throat and he felt it all come up. The experience was awful. The smell wasn’t as bad as actual vomit, but the sight of so much chewed and partially digested food sitting in the toilet was simply atrocious. When he was sure he had regurgitated everything, Ethan flushed the toilet and washed his face and hands. He wanted to cry because of what he just did. He wanted to scream and punch someone, and Ethan generally wasn’t a violent person. A knock on the door scared him out of his mind.

“Hey man, you okay in there? It’s been like ten minutes,” Mark said from the other side of the door. Ethan opened it and stepped out of the bathroom, not wanting Mark to be any more suspicious than he already was.

“Yeah, I’m all good. I guess I’ll head out now.” Mark didn’t question him further.

At home that night, Ethan cried in the shower, and he cried while editing, and he cried while trying to sleep. 

And then he got up from his bed, grabbed a razor, and he cut. As if he could block out his emotional pain by causing himself physical pain.

The reason he was found out: Ethan doesn’t sleep with a shirt on. And Kathryn came into his room to ask him something early in the morning, the sound of his door creaking open waking him up. As he sat up in bed, the duvet fell a bit, exposing his damaged arms. Kathryn gasped.

“Oh my god, Ethan—“

He realized his mistake immediately.

“Fuck, Kathryn, it’s not what it looks—“

“You hurt yourself?”

“It’s really not—“

“Why didn’t you—“

“Please don’t tell Mark,” he begged. She could hear the fear in his voice.

“You know I have to,” she said quietly. “Someone needs to help you with this, and Mark is probably your best shot. He knows you better than anyone.”

Ethan couldn’t argue with her. He knew she wouldn’t change her mind. When she left, he buried himself under the covers and felt all of the negativity sink in. He could tell he was beginning to have an episode, and it killed him that now Mark was going to find out.

Half an hour later, he heard his bedroom door open again. Heavy footsteps approached his bed, but he didn’t turn his head to see who was there. He already knew.

“Ethan,” Mark said sweetly, “Can you tell me why Kathryn called me saying I needed to check on you?”

So she hadn’t told him. Ethan was almost relieved until it dawned on him that Mark would find out no matter what now anyway. “Ethan?” Mark sat down on the edge of the bed and gently placed a hand on Ethan’s leg. He didn’t move.

“Ethan, please tell me what’s going on. You know you can trust me.” Ethan still didn’t move. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, darling.” 

Ethan knew that Mark calling him ‘darling’ probably would have sounded stupid in anyone else’s ears, but the pet name is what finally made him give in. Burying his face further into his pillow, he took his right arm out from under the covers and presented it to Mark. The latter took his hand and emitted a small gasp.

“Ethan,” he said quietly and with the utmost sympathy, “what did you do?”


	3. Gaining Support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much to everyone who has already left kudos! I didn't think people were going to like this very much at first, but I guess I've been proven wrong. I will warn you all that Mark's character in this is a tad bit softer and more affectionate than he probably would be in real life if this situation were to happen. Other than that, though, everything should be a-okay.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan sniffled, sobbing uncontrollably into his pillow. Mark stared at his arm, littered with cuts, and felt an ache in his chest as his mood darkened at the sight before him. Ethan shook violently, fat tears erupting from him as he brought his other arm out from under the covers as well, and Mark gasped again as he held each of Ethan’s hands in his own.

“Ethan, look at me,” he said, his voice wavering just a little. Ethan shook his head, crying louder. “Look at me. Please.”

Ethan turned his head, sitting up a bit so he could see Mark better. He bit his lip to keep from making any more noises of distress as he peered at his friend through glassy eyes.

“I love you,” Mark began, “and you can’t do this. I care about you too much to let you hurt yourself.”

Ethan blinked a few times. “I have to do it, Mark. I can’t stop myself when it happens. I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice!” Mark said, gripping Ethan’s hands a little harder. “You can choose not to do it if you really try.”

“It’s not that easy,” Ethan wailed, trying to free his arms from Mark’s grip. “Please go away. I can’t believe y-you’re seeing me like this. I can’t—oh god, Mark, I-I can’t breathe,” he babbled, his breaths coming out in short sputters as he suddenly squeezed Mark’s hands as if he were holding onto them for dear life.

“It’s okay, Ethan, breathe with me, breathe with me,” Mark said, trying to get Ethan to match his breathing just like the day prior. Ethan started to cry again, and Mark leaned down to press soft kisses on his injured arms as Ethan got his breathing back to normal. Mark scooted up next to Ethan on the bed and wiped the tears from his eyes, melting at how pitiful he looked.

Ethan instinctively leaned into Mark’s side and gripped onto his shirt, pulling him close. He mumbled something incoherent. “I’m not going anywhere,” Mark said. “It’s okay; you’re okay.”

Ethan’s eyelids started to flutter, and he fell back asleep, his head falling onto Mark’s stomach. Mark peered down at him and gently ruffled a hand through his soft brown hair, wanting nothing more than to kiss him until he felt better. At one point, Kathryn came in to check on them. “How is he?” she asked, and Mark gave her a half smile.

“He’s exhausted. He has so much sadness pent up that I had no idea about until now. But I promise he’ll be okay, he just needs some help. I’ll talk to him when he wakes up.” Kathryn nodded and left without a word, almost as worried about Ethan as Mark was.

The sun shone through Ethan’s curtains as he awoke, confused as to why there was a person right next to him. He looked up and saw Mark, and panic flooded through his chest until Mark looked down, noticed he was awake, and said, “Hey bud, it’s okay, don’t worry.” Mark smiled down at him, but Ethan saw the pity in his expression. He sat up and looked down at his arms.

“I hate seeing them,” he said softly, referring to his scars. Mark nodded.

“Do you think they’ll be permanent?”

“They never have before. That’s why you’ve never noticed anything.”

Mark cleared his throat. “How many times have you done it?”

“Four.” Ethan heard his voice break at the end of the word, and he felt his cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“You have so many of them,” Mark commented. “I’m guessing you used a razor?”

Ethan nodded. “It’s not all I’ve used, but it’s what I prefer. And it was the closest--well, I guess you’d call it a weapon--the closest weapon to me when I got the urge to do it last night,” he remarked.

“Last night? What made you want to do it then?” asked Mark.

“I, uhm, a lot of things really. I don’t want to get into it right now,” he responded bitterly. 

“If you did this just last night, why didn’t you want to be shirtless yesterday?”

“B-Because I also did it about a week ago,” Ethan confessed.

“Do you want to stop?” Mark asked, genuinely serious.

“Yes, of course,” Ethan mumbled, breaking eye contact.

“It’s okay if you don’t. Be honest.”

Ethan nervously fiddled with his hands. “It’s not that I actively want to do it, but in the moment, when I get the urge, i-it’s like I really, really want to. Like, a lot.”

Mark thought for a moment. “What are all of the weapons you’ve used to do it?”

“Um, a razor, a kitchen knife, and. . . a-and—“ He closed his eyes. “Scissors.”

“I didn’t even know you owned a pair of scissors,” Mark said.

“I don’t. They—they weren’t mine.”

“Whose were they?”

Biting his lip, Ethan refused to look at Mark. “They’re Amy’s. . . the ones we used to make the doll for Unus Annus.”

Mark looked confused. “What? How could you have used those?”

Ethan sighed, accepting what he had to say. “I took them to your bathroom after we finished recording and I, uh, I did it there.” He quickly added, “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I-It’s not the fact that you hurt yourself in my house,” Mark stated, “it’s the fact that I could’ve stopped you if I’d have known.”

“But you didn’t,” Ethan said. “Don’t think it could have been any different. It doesn’t matter now.”

“You need to get rid of anything in here that could be used as a weapon,” said Mark.

“What? But I need my razor to shave, and I need a kitchen knife to cook.”

“Then have Kathryn hide them, and you can ask for her permission when you need to use them.”

“No! I’m not going to treat myself like a child, Mark,” Ethan protested.

“It’s the only way for me to be sure you won’t hurt yourself when you feel like doing it next,” Mark reasoned.

“Please, Mark. There has to be another option.”

“Okay, how about this,” Mark said. “The next time you feel like hurting yourself in any way, just call me so I can distract you. I’ll even come over if you need me to.”

Ethan fidgeted a bit. “I don’t want to bother you,” he said quietly.

“I’d be more bothered if I knew you could be hurting yourself at any time and I wouldn’t know,” said Mark.

“Well what if it happens at a bad time? I can’t just call you at like three in the morning,” Ethan pointed out.

Mark rolled his eyes. “Ethan, we’re best friends. I want to be there for you, no matter what time it is. If you need me in the middle of the night, I’ll be there. No matter what.”

“That’s sweet of you, Mark,” Ethan replied, feeling the tiniest bit of warmth in his chest. 

“But if I’m going to help you, you need to be 100% honest with me, no excuses. And if there’s anything else you need help with, you need to tell me now.” Ethan thought about it for a minute. If he told Mark about every single one of his problems, he would probably begin to detest him for being such a burden and a train wreck. As if he was reading his mind, Mark added, “I won’t think less of you for anything, Ethan. I can promise you that. You have no idea how much I care about you. I just want to help.” 

Fuck, Mark had already found about his self-harm issue. There was no going back now. If Ethan wanted help, he’d have to admit everything. “Um, I have a lot to confess. Let me at least put some clothes on first so I don’t feel like a complete loser.” Mark stopped him before he could get up.

“Here, just put on my hoodie.” He took his sweatshirt off and held it out to Ethan. “You’re tired, I can tell. You should be resting.”

“O-okay.” Ethan put on Mark’s hoodie, loving the smell that now surrounded him. “I-I have a lot more problems than you think I do. You already know about my anxiety, and now the self-harm.” Mark nodded, letting Ethan lean back against the headboard. “I have depression, well, more like bipolar depression. It’s why I’ll sometimes spend a day in bed, not talking to anyone. When I have an episode, it’s bad. I physically can’t do anything. It’s all just too much.” He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Honestly, when I woke up this morning I could tell that today’s a bad day. I’ve just been trying harder than I ever have to fight through it, which is why I’m talking to you now.”

Mark put a hand on his thigh and rubbed affectionately, trying to comfort him. “Anyway, there’s something else. I’m really embarrassed about it, and I’m so worried you’ll be disgusted with me.” He almost chuckled at the end of his sentence. “Um, I. . . “ Mark could tell he had trouble getting the words out.

“Take your time, it’s okay,” he reassured. 

Ethan sighed, pausing for at least thirty seconds before speaking. “I’m, well, I’m kind of anorexic. I don’t eat for days despite how hungry I get, which is why I didn’t want to eat yesterday. I’m just, really ashamed of how I look. I feel like I need to lose weight to look good, so I don’t eat. And, um, this is the worst part. W-When I went into your bathroom before I left yesterday, I made--oh, fuck, this is hard to say. I made myself throw up. I wanted to get the food back out of my system so I wouldn’t gain more weight. I’m disgusting, I know, please don’t hate me.” By now, his eyes had filled with tears again, and he put his hand on top of Mark’s for a little extra comfort. Mark sighed softly.

“I could never hate you, Ethan. And I’m shocked you’ve been dealing with all of this by yourself. You need to know that you’re so, so strong for fighting through all of this. I’m proud of you. 

“And you should be proud of yourself, too. I don’t know when or why you ever started thinking that you need to lose weight, but your body is practically perfect. Sometimes I wish I looked as good as you.

“Now that I know you haven’t been eating, I’m going to make sure you eat at least a little bit every day, and we’ll start small so you can adjust. Eventually, we’ll work up to eating full meals, okay? I don’t want you to starve yourself.”

“Thank you,” said Ethan. “But Mark? I’ve been trying to get better for so long, and I haven’t made any progress. Actually, I think I’m just getting worse. What makes you think I’ll ever actually get better?”

“Because now you have me. It’s hard to break bad habits, but now you have someone to guide you. Now I’m sure you’ve had enough deep talk for one day, especially considering how tired you probably are. You said today is a bad day, right? Does that mean you want to stay in bed and be sad?”

“Why are you saying that like it’s completely normal?” Ethan asked, his face flushing.

“Because everyone feels emotions, man. I’m trying to keep it real.” Mark stood up from the bed. “I’m going to make you breakfast, and when I come back we can just sit here and do whatever. We can even cuddle if you want, but don’t tell Amy,” Mark joked. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know.”

Kiss me, Ethan thought, but he’d never say it aloud. He simply shook his head, knowing that if he thanked Mark again he’d hear a few sentences about basic friendship etiquette. Mark left the room, and Ethan laid back against the pillows, breathing in the scent of Mark’s hoodie. 

Maybe he wouldn’t be as depressed now that he had the company of his best friend. His lips twitched up into a small smile.

Yeah, maybe.


	4. Deepening Feelings

Mark was being too nice, but Ethan allowed himself to not feel selfish just this once. He sat with Mark in his bed watching movies on low volume for the rest of the day, and Mark made sure Ethan ate at least a little bit every few hours. The next thing Ethan knew, he was waking up with Mark’s arms wrapped around him. “What time is it?” he mumbled, looking up at Mark.

“Late. Uh, one thirty,” Mark replied, his voice gravelly. Ethan saw the moonlight shining through the curtains, realizing he had simply woken up in the middle of the night. He still felt all the food in his stomach that he had eaten throughout the day, and it made him uneasy. He pried himself from Mark’s arms and stood to leave, earning a confused look from the other man.

“Where are you going?” asked Mark.

“Bathroom,” Ethan muttered, opening the door. Mark gave him a concerned look, and Ethan sighed. “I’m not going to hurt myself, I promise. It’s okay.” Mark visibly relaxed, and Ethan went into the bathroom.

He splashed some water on his face and glanced at himself in the mirror, not liking what he saw but much too tired for any self-hatred. He bent over the toilet, a sinking feeling in his chest as he repeated his actions from yesterday. Most of his food came back up, and he almost felt hungry again instantly. Sighing, he rinsed his mouth out with warm water and trudged back to his room.

When he saw Mark’s smiling face, as if he were so happy to see him, he felt tears come to his eyes. As much as he tried to stop them, they trickled down his face anyway, and Mark’s eyes must have adjusted to the darkness, because he noticed.

“Ethan, what’s wrong?” he asked. His voice feigned concern and a hint of fear, like he knew that Ethan had done something bad.

Ethan figured he had to tell Mark. Honesty and all that, right? “I, oh god, I don’t know how to tell you,” he said, whimpering as he stood in the doorway.

“Ethan, it’s okay, you can tell me anything. I’m right here to help you, okay hun?” Again, a silly pet name slipped from Mark’s lips, and it somehow made Ethan more willing to speak to him.

“I m-made myself throw up,” he said shakily. “If I eat, I’ll just get f-fat.”

Mark frowned and held his arms out. “Come here, it’s all okay.” Ethan eagerly climbed back into bed with him and let Mark take him into his arms, holding him tight so that Ethan’s head could rest against Mark’s chest. “We’ll get through this,” whispered Mark. “We can talk about it more in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”

Ethan spoke again, still crying softly. “Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I’m so needy.”

“You’re not, Ethan, you’re just going through a tough time,” Mark said. “It’s alright, I want to help you. Now try to relax, okay? You must be tired still.”

Ethan leaned back a bit so he could look at Mark’s face. “Can you sing to me?” he asked, his cheeks flushing pink as he flooded with embarrassment for asking such a question.

Mark nodded and smiled. “Of course, anything to help you rest.” Mark tried to think of a calming song to sing, and he quietly cleared his throat before softly crooning, “I’m lying on the moon. My dear, I’ll be there soon. . .”

—

Ethan awoke without Mark’s warm body next to him, and it almost felt odd being in bed alone. He reached for his phone, confused and groggy from sleep. 8:14. Oh, and he had a text from Mark.

Mark: I figured you’d look at your phone as soon as you woke up so I’m texting you. Had to leave early in the morning to help Amy with some stuff. Hope you’re okay. Sorry I left so soon but I’ll see you today at 4 so we can film. You look cute while sleeping ;)

Ethan blushed. Mark only said that as a joke, right? He couldn’t be flirting with Ethan, not since he had a girlfriend. Ethan shook his head and typed a response.

Ethan: good morning :) thank you for yesterday. hope i wasn’t too annoying :P you’re greta friend. see you at 4

Ethan: a great* friend. damn it

Ethan cringed at his own inability to type out grammatically correct sentences. Though to be fair, he had typed that message pretty fast. Mark’s response came in within a minute.

Mark: Dyslexia getting to you? Maybe sleep in some. See you later

Ethan smiled and stretched, deciding not to take Mark’s advice despite the fatigue settling in his bones. He had actually slept fairly well last night with Mark with him, but it didn’t make up for his many sleepless nights and insomnia-esque experiences.

If Mark were here, he’d make Ethan eat breakfast. So Ethan made that his first objective for the day. After that, he’d work out and try to film a few videos of his own before heading to Mark’s. 

Hours later, Amy let Ethan into the house and commented on his choice of clothing. “You sure have been wearing a lot of long sleeves. Are you immune to hot weather?” she said jokingly. Ethan bit his tongue.

“It’s a great fashion choice,” Mark said, coming into the room. Ethan internally thanked him for the save. My hero, he mused, and then nearly laughed out loud at his own thought.

“Anyway, you’re pretty flexible, yeah?” Mark said, a smirk on his face. Ethan nodded. “Good, because the first video we’re filming today is going to be a flexibility stretch routine!”

Amy snorted. “This should be fun. Am I supposed to tell you guys what to do?”

“Yeah,” said Mark. “Pretty much.”

“I’m going to be so much better than you at this,” Ethan said with a grin.

“Hey, not everything is a competition, Ethan,” Mark said, grinning straight back at him. Ethan rolled his eyes.

The video went well for a while, Mark and Ethan doing various stretches as directed by Amy. It was clear that Ethan was, in fact, better, only in the sense that he could stretch farther than Mark.

“Come on, you’re hardly even stretching,” Ethan complained.

“Oh yeah? This is what it means to go even further beyond!” Mark proceeded to stretch his arms out as far as possible, finally touching his toes before he let out a strangled cry. “Damn! That fucking hurt,” he said.

Ethan giggled. “I bet you liked it.”

“Okay, next you guys are going to get into a frog pose,” said Amy from behind the camera. 

“What the hell is a frog pose?” Mark asked. Ethan showed him, getting into position quickly. Mark laughed. “That just looks like you’re straddling someone.”

Ethan laughed with him. “Yeah, I guess.”

“The actual stretch is to rock your hips back and forth slowly and shift your weight,” Amy explained.

“Like this?” asked Ethan, doing as she said.

“Woah man, that kinda looks sexual,” Mark commented, and Ethan felt his face redden.

“Come on, you have to do this with me!” he said, motioning for Mark to get into the same position. When they both started rocking back and forth, Mark spoke again.

“You’re really getting into that, man. Have you ever ridden a guy before, cause you kinda look experienced—“

“Shut up, Mark!” Ethan squeaked. “You know I’m not gay.”

A disappointed look crossed Mark’s face only for a moment, and Ethan was able to catch it before it dissipated. He didn’t mention it since they were recording.

A few minutes later, they were nearing the end of the video and Ethan wanted to see if he could put his legs behind his head. Both Amy and Mark didn’t think he could do it, so when he succeeded, Mark’s jaw dropped.

“How the fuck did you do that?” he sputtered. “Man, you must be great in bed.”

“Yeah, that’s what your mom tells me,” Ethan joked, even saying it in a dumb voice. “But it’s not like guys have to bend their bodies very much while they’re, you know, doing it.”

“Unless they’re gay,” said Mark. “But you’re not.”

“Nope,” Ethan said quietly, looking away as he returned to a normal sitting position. And it’s true; he wasn’t gay. But he wasn’t exactly straight either judging by his massive crush on Mark. Mark could tell something was off with Ethan when he had responded, and he wanted to know so badly whether or not Ethan was really as straight as he claimed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask him while the cameras were rolling, and he didn’t want to force him out of the closet if he wasn’t ready.

Still, Mark’s curiosity overtook him, and when he and Ethan were sitting on the couch alone after filming, he looked up from his phone and glanced over at Ethan.

“You know, if there’s anything you might want to tell me, you can. I won’t judge you; I never have for anything,” Mark said sincerely. Ethan shook his head.

“I’m not gay, Mark,” he mumbled, but the tips of his ears reddened, a clear sign that he was lying. Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure? Because you kinda look like you’re lying, buddy.” Ethan immediately raised a hand up to his ear, knowing that Mark could tell he had lied. He gasped and his face flushed pink, but he knew that Mark wouldn’t hate him for his sexuality.

“Okay, it’s not that I’m gay, I swear,” said Ethan, flustered. “I do like girls. B-But I like a guy too. I, shit, I mean guys in general. Not a specific guy. Fuck,” he rambled, hoping Mark wouldn’t notice his slip-up.

“There’s a specific guy? What’s he like?” asked Mark. Ethan didn’t want to upset him by refusing to answer, so he did the best he could without giving it away.

“Well, he has a big vocabulary,” Ethan said. He figured that was vague enough. He also added a mumbled, “And an even bigger head.”

“Is that what you like about him? Come on, Ethan, tell me what makes this guy so desirable,” Mark said, his voice deep and smooth. Ethan leaned back against the couch and looked him in the eye, unable to tear his gaze from Mark’s handsome face.

“He thinks highly of himself, but he also has a lot of respect for others,” Ethan said, his voice lowering almost to a whisper. “He has dark hair that would be amazing to pull. . . not that I only want him sexually.” Ethan struggled to watch his mouth, Mark’s dark brown eyes somehow messing with his verbal filter. “I-I think he’s straight though. So it doesn’t matter.” He finally tore his eyes away from Mark and looked off to the other side of the room.

“Ah, you probably deserve better than him anyway,” Mark said honestly. “I don’t think anyone really deserves someone as amazing as you are,” he added in a quieter voice.

“Shut up, don’t joke about that,” Ethan said a moment later.

“I’m not, I’m being completely serious,” said Mark, and Ethan could tell by the look on his face that he was. It made his face flush once again, and he smiled.

“Well I’m not that amazing,” he muttered. Mark’s eyes, which had been trained on Ethan’s, drifted slightly down for a moment before they snapped back up. 

“Ethan, I wanted to—“

“Hey, I got the food,” Amy said, entering the room just before Mark could finish his sentence. Ethan briefly wondered what he was going to say before his mind fixated on eating and actually keeping the food in his system this time. It was tough, but he finally let himself fully digest a meal for the first time in a long time.

That night, as Ethan laid in bed, trying to sleep, he heard Mark’s voice over and over in his mind. If Mark had been flirting with him, it must have been a joke, right? Mark was definitely straight. And he was dating Amy! Ethan cringed at himself for thinking Mark could like him. But what if he could? Usually Mark would make fun of Ethan during their videos (Ethan knew it was all for the content), but when they filmed that day it seemed as though Mark only had good things to say about him. What was going on?

Ethan came up with three possible explanations. One: He is simply going crazy and imagining things, and Mark never really meant anything he said at all. Two: Mark was only taking pity on him and trying to help him feel less insecure by complimenting him and flirting. Three: Mark might actually have a thing for him. And in Ethan’s mind, the only logical explanation was the second option. 

He didn’t blame Mark for pitying him, but it hurt to think that Mark would say things that aren’t true to try to make him feel worth something. If Mark was going to flirt with him, he wanted it to be real, and he planned on having a stern talk with him about it, but that could wait until the next time they would see each other. For now, Ethan had to calm down enough to sleep.

Don’t think about hurting yourself, don’t think about bad things, don’t think about being pitied by your best friend.

Ethan finally drifted off to sleep an hour later thinking of Mark’s strong arms wrapped around him, singing him to sleep. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 5 and 6 should be posted sometime this afternoon, depending on when I have free time. Since all of the chapters are written out already, I just have to reread and edit them before posting them. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think so far!


	5. Unexpected Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very first paragraph is a bit cringey to read >_< I apologize
> 
> Other than that this was an interesting chapter to write. Happy reading!

Ethan shot up in bed, a thin layer of sweat covering his body as he moaned. He felt himself release, a wet spot forming on his boxers as he came to his senses. Fuck. Another wet dream about Mark. Ethan had had many of those recently, and he’d occasionally end up reaching his orgasm before he even woke up. Embarrassed wasn’t the right word to describe how it made him feel; it was more like humiliated. Sighing, he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower.

He knew he needed to stop crushing on Mark. His feelings had been there for so long, and he had to get rid of them. He had no chance with Mark, so the best thing he could do was move on. When Ethan stepped out of the shower, water droplets falling off of his clean body, he picked up his phone to check the time, seeing a notification on his screen.

Tyler: Hey man, got any plans today?

Ethan raised his eyebrows, wondering what Tyler was up to. Every once in a while he’d hit Ethan up just so they could hang out for a bit, so this was probably just that. 

Ethan: nope, what’s up?

Tyler: Wanna go to the club later? I’ll pay for your drinks.

Ethan considered it for a moment, wondering if it would be a good idea. To be fair, he hadn’t let himself go out and just have fun in a long time, and if Tyler was there with him he wouldn’t be feeling too anxious. And maybe he could talk to some people there, just to distract himself for a while from thinking about Mark way more than he should.

Ethan: sure! pick me up at 7?

Tyler: It’s a date :0

Ethan chuckled, knowing completely well that Tyler was joking. It was lucky that he didn’t actually have plans today; Ethan had been going to Mark’s almost every day to film for their channel. It definitely didn’t help with his crush.

As planned, Tyler picked him up at 7, and Ethan found himself having a few more drinks than he should have. He figured it was okay since Tyler was there, though, until the latter turned to him, a pretty girl standing next to him and biting her lip.

“Hey, are you gonna be fine if I leave?” asked Tyler. Ethan glanced between him and the girl and realized the situation. Not wanting to cockblock his friend, he nodded.

“I’ll call an Uber so I can get home,” he said. “Have fun.” Tyler gave him a pat on the shoulder and left, and Ethan turned back to face the bartender, who honestly looked pretty damn sexy.

Ethan may find many people attractive, but he had never liked the idea of going out and finding someone to have a one night stand with. He had just finished off a beer when someone sat next to him at the bar.

“Hey, I see you’re ogling the bartender,” the guy said, just loud enough for Ethan to hear over the loud music. “You look like you could do better, handsome. What’s your name?”

Ethan looked the man up and down, loving the dark, curly hair and olive tanned skin. In a way, this guy reminded him of Mark. “Uh, Ethan,” he said, remembering that the man had asked him for his name.

“Nice to meet you, Ethan. I’m Edward, but you can call me Eddie.”

Ethan almost laughed at the name. Eddie wasn’t a very attractive name for a guy to have, and what was also funny was the fact that this guy had Mark’s middle name. Now Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about Mark even if he wanted to.

He found himself talking to Eddie for an hour or so, which seemed to fly by as he continued to drink. He was well on his way to blacking out, but he felt perfectly fine. Not at all wasted, not even with his slurred speech and clumsy feet, which he discovered as he stood up from the bar to follow Eddie to the bathroom.

By the way he was talking, it seemed as though Eddie was leading him to the bathroom so they could kiss for a while in private, which Ethan was okay with as long as it didn’t go further than that. But when Eddie slipped his hand under Ethan’s shirt and felt the soft skin there, the latter froze up and pushed him away. 

“What’s the matter? Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” Eddie asked, approaching Ethan again and grabbing his wrists to pin his arms above his head, using his other hand to feel up Ethan’s chest.

“No,” Ethan said as clearly as he could while drunk. “Let go of me please.” He could tell his breaths were shortening, and it got worse when Eddie didn’t let go, instead gliding his hand down to cup Ethan’s dick through his jeans as he leaned down to kiss at his neck. Although Ethan’s neck was sensitive, he didn’t get any pleasure from having a guy he just met touching him there, especially without his consent. It made him feel lightheaded in the worst way possible, and he cried out for Eddie to cease his actions.

“No! Stop, please stop,” he said, shivering in fear and disgust. He tried to break free from Eddie’s hold, but being drunk really took the fight out of him. He could hardly move, and it scared the shit out of him. He knew Eddie probably wasn’t going to stop any time soon, and Ethan didn’t need the lasting trauma of rape to be added to his list of problems. “Get off of me!” he cried out, his eyes glistening with tears as he whimpered. He felt utterly helpless, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Shh, you should be enjoying this,” said Eddie, slipping his hand into Ethan’s pants and squeezing his cock. The skin to skin contact made Ethan cringe, and he managed to kick Eddie in the leg to try to deter him. However, the only thing that he succeeded in was making Eddie mad, and the latter grabbed Ethan’s arms and slammed him back against the wall, digging his fingernails into Ethan’s forearms, directly into the injuries he already had from his last self-harm incident. Ethan screamed in pain, practically sobbing as Eddie let go with one hand, grabbing Ethan’s wrists again with his other hand to make sure he couldn’t fight back and using his free hand to cover Ethan’s mouth, silencing his protests.

Just when Ethan thought he was doomed, the bathroom door opened, and a tall guy who looked to be in his 20s caught wind of the situation. Eddie’s eyes went wide, and before he even had the chance to pull back, the guy was rushing forward and clocking him right in the face. Ethan almost fell over when Eddie let go of him, struggling to support himself as he felt relief but also panic as he watched a stranger beat the shit out of an attempted rapist. After a few punches, Eddie was on the ground, and the stranger gave a kick to his side before finally speaking.

“Fucking pervert,” he said. “Stay down or I’ll send you to the hospital; give you the beating you really deserve for trying to take advantage of an innocent guy.” He turned to Ethan, and the angry look on his face washed away, replaced by a concerned one. “Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asked, careful not to touch Ethan in case he might freak out. Ethan was surprised at how considerate the guy was, holding his hands out slightly as if he was ready to quite literally catch Ethan if he fell.

“Y-Yeah, I mean, he hurt me a little but I’m okay,” he said, his voice getting quieter with every word. He looked down at the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes. He felt awful and wanted to get the fuck out of there. 

“Are you here alone? Do you want me to give you a ride back to your house?” the guy asked. Ethan’s panic went away almost instantly, getting the vibe that this guy was a genuinely good person. It was a bit ironic for him to feel so much more comfortable with this stranger than he should, considering how he had almost been raped by a guy who seemed decent enough at first.

“Yes, please. Thank you so much,” Ethan slurred, hating how drunk he was at the moment. But now he had a hero, and he somehow knew he’d get home safe. The guy led Ethan to his car, letting Ethan wrap an arm around his shoulders for support. 

“I’m Dan, by the way,” he said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket. He guided Ethan into the passenger seat before walking around to the other side, hopping in the car and closing the door. He looked over and saw Ethan having trouble buckling his seatbelt. Reaching over, he chuckled and helped him out.

“God, I’m sorry, I’m so drunk,” Ethan said, facepalming. Dan shook his head, starting the car.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m honestly just glad I got to you in time before that guy did what he was going to do.”

“How’d you know what was going on as soon as you walked in?” Ethan asked, leaning his head against the window.

“I heard you scream in there, so I knew something was definitely wrong. When I opened the door and saw that guy pushing you against the wall, it was obvious.” Dan sighed, but then he turned to Ethan and smiled. “Can you give me your address so I can drive you home?”

Ethan thought for a moment. “I can’t think of it, uh. . .” He genuinely couldn’t seem to remember his own address, and he searched his mind frantically for any address he could manage to think of. The only one that popped into his mind was Mark’s. “Um, just take me to—“ He proceeded to list Mark’s address, and Dan put it into his GPS and pulled out of the parking lot.

When they arrived, it was sometime around 10 pm, and Dan pulled into Mark’s driveway and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay here, you said this is your friend’s house, right?” Ethan nodded. “Alright, I’ll go knock on the door and make sure he’s here so he can get you inside.” Ethan stared at Mark’s front door, watching Dan knock and wait for a few moments. The door opened, and Mark peered at Dan with an obviously confused expression. Dan said something, and Mark looked over at the car, making eye contact with Ethan. A few moments later, he was opening the car door and helping Ethan out, thanking Dan over and over as he led Ethan into his house.

“Are you okay? That guy kind of told me what happened,” said Mark, sitting Ethan down on the couch before promptly sitting down next to him.

Remembering how scared and uncomfortable he was in the situation, Ethan started to cry again. “I almost got raped, Mark,” he whispered. “I was so fucking scared.”

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright. I’m here now, and you’re perfectly safe. Do you want to go up to the guest room?” asked Mark. Ethan nodded, and Mark helped him up the stairs, an ache in his chest as he thought about what Ethan must have gone through that night. Ethan sat down on the bed, and Mark took his shoes off for him, along with his hoodie since he didn’t want Ethan to be too hot. “Try to get some sleep, I’ll check on you in the morning.”

Mark turned to leave, but Ethan let out a sob and reached for him. “Wait!” he pleaded, sniffling as he tried to stop crying. “W-Will you stay with me?”

Mark looked at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, of course. Let me go tell Amy. I’ll be right back, I promise. Everything is okay, baby.” Mark left, and Ethan replayed the man’s words in his head. Was he imagining things, or did Mark just call him baby? Occasionally Mark had called Ethan pet names, but never the really romantic stuff like baby. Why would Mark call him baby?

The older man returned and laid down on the bed, motioning for Ethan to lay down as well. He happily obliged, facing Mark as they laid on their sides. Mark looked him in the eyes and smiled. 

“I’m going to protect you from guys like that,” Mark said, wiping a stray tear from Ethan’s face. “Next time you go to a club or a bar or whatever, I want to come with you.”

“Okay,” Ethan said softly, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Cute,” Mark whispered, not even caring about his lack of a verbal filter at the moment. Chances were, Ethan wouldn’t remember their conversation in the morning anyway. “Want to spoon?”

Ethan giggled and turned around so that Mark could wrap his arms around him, holding him close. “This is nice,” Ethan remarked, relaxing in Mark’s hold. He could have sworn he felt Mark press a gentle kiss to the back of his neck, but he was already half asleep when it happened, too far gone to question it. 

Falling asleep in Mark’s arms was something Ethan could get used to.


	6. Change Of Pace

So maybe things weren’t too bad after that. Ethan had gone a month without self-harming, he had been eating at least a little bit every day, and he hadn’t had a depressive episode. There had been the occasional panic attack here and there, but nothing too extreme.

But even through the improvement, there was something constantly bothering Ethan. Ever since he told Mark about his issues, the man had been so much kinder to him on camera, not even insulting him once for content. Mark had even flirted with him too many times to count, which Ethan knew they had done before jokingly, but this didn’t feel like a joke. And what bothered him was that he knew Mark couldn’t love him, so he had to be doing it all out of pity. Ethan hated being pitied.

After filming a video in which they made a pillow fort in Mark’s recording studio, the latter turned to Ethan and put out a hand. “Would you like to join me in my fort?” he asked in a cheesy, dramatic voice. Ethan giggled and took his hand, getting comfortable on the cushions and gazing up at the sheets above them.

“Why are we sitting in your pillow fort?” Ethan asked, slightly grinning.

“You seem a little down today,” Mark responded, his tone significantly more serious than before. “I thought since pillow forts give such good vibes, maybe spending some time in one with me could cheer you up.”

Ethan knew Mark meant well, but his smile faded. “Why do you pity me?” he asked, turning to face Mark.

“What are you talking about?” asked Mark, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Ethan sighed. “You’ve been so much nicer to me since I told you about all the stuff I’m going through. I know you’re taking pity on me and I hate it.”

“Ethan,” Mark began, “I’m not taking pity on you. It’s just, well, when I found out how much you dislike yourself I wanted to start reminding you that you’re just—you’re just absolutely amazing. It has nothing to do with pity.”

“Then why do you keep flirting with me?” Ethan asked, ignoring the blush on his face. “I mean, I guess maybe you somehow found out about my feelings for you, but flirting with me kind of only makes it worse, and I really don’t—“

“Ethan.” The boy stopped rambling so he could look over at Mark, who gave him a soft smile. “I don’t know what made you think I’d torture you like that, and, uh, I didn’t know about those ‘feelings’ you mentioned. But now that I do know, I kind of have something I want to do.”

Ethan licked his lips, worried but curious. “Why don’t you do it then?” he whispered.

Slowly, Mark leaned in and closed the gap between their faces, pressing his thin lips to Ethan’s soft ones. His hands flew into Ethan’s hair as they kissed, wanting him as close as humanly possible. When he pulled away, not wanting to overwhelm Ethan, he let out a breathy laugh. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long. So, so long,” he said.

“Mark,” Ethan breathed, “You have—“

Before he could finish his sentence, Chica entered the fort and interrupted him. Amy followed suit, apologizing to the boys. “Sorry, I tried to keep her downstairs so she wouldn’t bother you two. Are you done recording?” she asked. Mark bit his lip and nodded, shooting a quick glance at Ethan before moving to leave their pillow fort.

Neither of them spoke of it, and nothing else happened between them. Mark seemed so close, yet so far.

It nearly broke Ethan’s heart.

—

It was getting bad again. Ethan found himself more tempted to cut with each day that passed. One evening, when Kathryn was at a friend’s house for the night and the sun had set, Ethan crept into her room and revealed the small box she had of sharp objects that weren’t to be touched by Ethan unless he had permission. He immediately reached for the razor, his weapon of choice since it produced multiple cuts with each stroke. He let the object barely graze his arm, not actually cutting him, and then he remembered a deal he made with Mark.

Speaking of Mark, they hadn’t begun to act any different towards each other after the kiss. Everything was practically the same, except Ethan felt a dull ache in his chest due to the longing he felt for the other man. He didn’t want to call him and bother him, but Mark had asked Ethan to talk to him if he ever felt the urge to self-harm again. And this was definitely an urge.

Ethan dialed Mark’s number on his phone and waited for him to pick up, feeling as though his heart was beating in his throat rather than in his chest.

“Hello? Ethan?” said Mark, answering the call.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, I-I’m sorry about this, um—“ The tears came to his eyes almost immediately, and he found it hard to speak. “You asked m-me to call you if I ever wanted to, you know. . . I mean, I really feel like hurting myself and I just need you to help.”

Mark seemed hesitant on the other line, like he was choosing his words carefully. “Thank you for being honest with me. I’m so glad you called. Where are you right now?”

“Um, I’m in Kathryn’s room. She’s not here.”

“Why are you in Kathryn’s room?”

Ethan sighed, shaking from anxiety. “She keeps a box of stuff in here that I’m not allowed to use. Sharp stuff.”

“Ethan, do you have the box in front of you? Because I feel like you do,” Mark said, and Ethan accidentally made a noise that let Mark know he was crying.

“Yeah,” he whined. “I have a razor in my hand, I-I just haven’t used it yet. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t cry, Ethan, don’t be sorry,” said Mark. “It’s okay, you didn’t actually hurt yourself. That’s good; that’s progress. You were able to call me first.”

“What do I do now?” Ethan asked.

“Can you put the razor down, back into the box please?” asked Mark.

“I don’t know, Mark. I want to,” said Ethan. His hand shook.

“Then you can. You’re strong, Ethan, you can do this.” Ethan finally set the razor down, breathing in deeply. 

“I did it. I, um, I feel like I wasted your time, though. I’m going to go.” Before Mark could say another word, Ethan hung up on him, immediately grabbing the razor again and holding it against his forearm. Mark tried to call him back, but Ethan didn’t pick up. For a minute or two, he only sat there, staring at the blade against his arm and trying his damndest not to move. But Ethan didn’t feel as strong as Mark said he was, and he eventually gave in to the urge, slashing cuts across his skin. It hurt, but the pain was a relief. He was afraid of possibly getting addicted to it. When he finished inflicting pain on himself, he went to the bathroom to clean the razor off and wash the blood off of his arms, being patient as the bleeding slowly came to a stop. He put the razor back into the box of sharp objects and returned it to its hiding place, and when he opened the door to leave Kathryn’s room he ran straight into another person.

“Mark?” he said in disbelief, the man immediately seeing what Ethan had done to himself and frowning.

“I knew you’d do it. Get in my car, we’re going to my house.” Mark took Ethan by the wrist, careful to avoid the cuts just an inch away, and led him out of his apartment. On the car ride to Mark’s house, Ethan had to hold back tears as he folded his arms down to try to hide the damage.

“Why’d you come over? Did you really think you’d get to me in time?” Ethan asked, quivering.

“No. But I didn’t want you to spend the night alone, not after doing that. I want to physically be there for you.”

“Mark, you’re giving me an awful lot of attention. Doesn’t all this bother you? Wouldn’t you rather worry about other things?”

Mark pulled into his driveway. “Ethan, if you don’t understand by now how important you are to me and how much I want you to be okay, then I don’t know how to make you understand it at all. Come on, you can sleep in the guest room.”

They headed inside, Mark leading Ethan up to the bedroom and letting him get comfortable. He came in a few minutes later to check on him, saying some stuff about how much Ethan means to him and that things will get better. Ethan desperately wanted Mark to sing him to sleep, but he was already too tired to bother to ask him. Mark told him goodnight and left, heading down the hall to his and Amy’s room. Ethan quickly found that he couldn’t sleep despite his exhaustion, and it brought him to tears almost immediately.

Something felt different. It wasn’t just Ethan feeling guilty about being so needy and problematic (his thoughts, not ours). He felt hopeless. He’d never stop self-harming, he’d never be able to eat right, he wouldn’t ever be able to take care of himself properly, he wouldn’t ever be able to spend a significant amount of time in a good mental state. He gave up on himself, and he wanted to stop feeling like Mark’s responsibility. He didn’t want to live like this, and if it couldn’t change, why should he live at all?

He knew he wouldn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He knew everyone around him, including himself, could be a lot better off without all of his fucking problems. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped no one would hate him for doing it.

—

Amy slipped out of Mark’s arms and padded down the hall to the bathroom, switching the light on and closing the door behind her. She glanced at the mirror before noticing the cabinet door that was slightly ajar. Thinking it was probably nothing would be logical, but her curiosity took over as she opened the cabinet door fully, revealing an empty space between the items. There should be something else there. And this was her and Mark’s medicine cabinet.

Without hesitation, she rushed down the hall and pushed open the door to the guest bedroom, revealing a half-conscious Ethan who had an empty pill bottle in his hand and a nearly empty glass of water beside him. “Mark!” Amy shouted down the hall. “Mark!” She stood over Ethan and shook him a bit, a horrible feeling in her chest. “Come on, Ethan, stay with me.”

Mark entered the room, not seeing much at first in the dim light. “Amy, what’s—oh my god. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” He scrambled over to the bed and grabbed Ethan’s face, practically shouting at Amy to call 911. Worried that Ethan might die before he could get to the hospital, Mark shoved two of his fingers down the boy’s throat, as far as he could before pulling them back out and groaning in frustration. “Shit, he has literally no fucking gag reflex!”

He and Amy tried frantically to keep Ethan awake, but his eyes rolled back into his head and he couldn’t speak. Eventually Amy started to pace back and forth, eyes misty as she feared for the life of her friend. Mark scooped Ethan up in his arms and held him close, completely breaking down and sobbing, truly believing that this might be the end of his best friend’s life.

All Ethan remembered was distant shouting, crying, pain shooting through his body in waves, and drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our poor Ethan :( I feel so bad for writing this chapter. 
> 
> More will come tomorrow!


	7. Continuum

Darkness. Hushed voices. A dull ache throughout Ethan’s entire body. Someone had been telling him to wake up, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to be awake. He wished to be gone, 

gone,

gone.

A heavy feeling in his chest, probably guilt. Feeling like he might have left too soon. 

He still didn’t want to wake up.

But he had to.

He opened his eyes, hyper aware of his own breathing and the bright lights of the hospital. He blinked a few times, exhaling as he tried to move, but he was deterred by the ache in his bones. He glanced to the side and saw a familiar face, slowly moving his hand over to rest on top of Mark’s. The latter lifted his head instantly and his eyes went wide, a relieved gasp leaving his lips.

“Ethan,” he breathed, placing his other hand on top of Ethan’s. “You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive,” he mumbled, eyes raking over the boy’s weakened body.

Ethan nodded. “Wish I wasn’t,” he said quietly.

Mark’s face fell, gently squeezing Ethan’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I didn’t know that it had gotten that bad, I didn’t think to stay with you for even a few more minutes, I’m sorry Eth—“

“Why are you apologizing?” asked Ethan, sitting up a bit and repositioning his body. “It was my decision, Mark, you had nothing to do with it. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Why did you decide to do it?” Mark questioned, almost hesitantly.

Ethan sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “I know you’ve told me that I’m getting better, Mark, but I still have so many problems and I don’t want to live with them all. I can’t live with myself.”

“So you gave up?” Mark asked, hurt.

“Exactly,” said Ethan, inhaling deeply. “You wouldn’t understand it, and I’m too tired to try to explain. Mark, I love being with you right now, I do. But—“

“But,” Mark said sadly. “Why does there have to be a but?”

Ethan shook his head. “As I was saying, I love being with you at the moment, but I would have rather not woken up at all.”

“How can you feel that way?” Mark asked. “I honestly don’t get it. I know things get bad, really bad, but isn’t it still worth it? You can’t have the good without the bad, right?”

“All I’ve known is bad!” Ethan said, raising his voice as he tore his hand away from where it rested between Mark’s. “Yeah, sure, every now and then there are good moments, but most of my days are awful! I’m so sick of it, why else would I try to kill myself? I’d be much happier dead than alive.”

“You wouldn’t be able to feel anything if you were dead!” Mark exclaimed, standing up from the chair he had been sitting in. “Do you even hear yourself right now? The Ethan I know never gives up on anything unless he knows he can’t win. But you can win this, Ethan, I’m right here to help you through it.” Mark’s voice had grown quieter throughout his rambling, and he gave Ethan the most sincere look he could muster.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” said Ethan, unable to tear his eyes away from Mark’s. “I don’t feel like I can win, Mark. Even with your help. I don’t know what to do or where to start. You said we made progress before but I feel like I’m going nowhere and I don’t know how to fix anything.” His eyes began to well with tears, and he balled his hands into fists as his voice started to sound strangled. “Maybe you need to let me give up.”

“Never,” Mark breathed, shaking his head. “I care about you too much to let you lose to yourself like this. It will get better. It may not seem like it, I know. But if you continue to let me help you and have patience, it will get better. I just need you to stay with me.”

Ethan swallowed and tried to ignore the lump in his throat. “What if I don’t want to stay just to make you happy?”

“Then stay for your own sake. Don’t let your story end on a bad note. There’s a reason you didn’t die after taking those pills, Ethan. You’ll end up happy if you give it time. Please.”

The desperation in Mark’s voice finally made the dam break, hot tears spilling down Ethan’s face. He let out a choked sob and wrapped his arms around Mark as the latter leaned in to hug him. “It’s so hard for me,” Ethan hiccuped. “It doesn’t seem worth it to keep living.”

“It’s okay, baby, it’ll be worth it soon. You’ll see,” Mark stated, rubbing Ethan’s back to comfort him. There was that pet name again. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop crying,” Ethan whimpered, grasping at the back of Mark’s shirt.

“It’s alright, you can let it out,” said Mark. “I’m here for you.”

Ethan cried, clinging on to his best friend for ten minutes or so until his fatigue caught up to him and he slowly calmed down enough to stop. Mark pulled back from their hug and wiped the tears from Ethan’s face, smiling at him as his heart throbbed for the boy.

“I was so afraid you were gone,” Mark whispered, staring into Ethan’s eyes. “You couldn’t speak or move. When you got here you almost stopped breathing for a minute. Amy and I were so scared.”

“I know you guys care about me a lot,” Ethan said, his lip quivering as he took shaky breaths. “It was selfish of me to try to take my own life, even though I really, really don’t want to be here.”

“You’re not selfish. You’re suffering.” Mark lifted a hand to brush the hair out of Ethan’s face. “But we can change that, I promise. You just have to make me an equal promise. You can’t do this again. I never want to see you dying like that ever again.”

Ethan bit his lip and looked down at his lap. “But I don’t want to be miserable all the time until it gets better. I can’t.”

“Ethan,” said Mark, “look at me please.” Ethan drew his hazel eyes back up to meet Mark’s, sucking in a deep breath. “You don’t have to be miserable.” Ethan watched in awe as Mark moved in, inching their faces closer and closer. He was reminded of the first time they kissed, never mentioning it again after it happened. That had torn Ethan apart, and he didn’t want it to happen again at all. But Mark’s lips were so close to his, and maybe just for a moment he could enjoy something. He closed his eyes and let Mark press their lips together, sighing into the kiss and carding his fingers through Mark’s hair. Mark moved his lips against Ethan’s expertly, only pulling away for air and then smiling to himself.

“I think that was even better than the first time,” Mark said softly.

“You remember that?” asked Ethan as he opened his eyes.

Mark chuckled. “Of course, how could I forget? Your lips are so soft.”

“I don’t want this to be like the first time,” Ethan said quickly. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“We won’t,” Mark decided.

“But what about Amy?” Ethan asked, his heart sinking. “I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship with her.”

Mark shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. We can talk about it when we go home. Will you please promise me you won’t try to leave again?”

“Only if you kiss me again,” Ethan said softly but with confidence.

Mark patted his head and stood up. “Not right now. Amy will kill me if she finds out I kissed you three times already.”

“Wait, you told her about the first time?” Ethan asked, shocked.

“Once again, we’ll talk about it later. You need to get some more rest. When you wake up again, I’ll take you home and we can have a chat.”

“Fair enough,” said Ethan. “Wait,” he added when Mark turned towards the door. “Can you stay here with me?” Mark nodded and sat back down in the chair. “No, silly, lay next to me.” Ethan giggled when Mark blushed and moved to lay with him in the hospital bed, draping an arm over Ethan and holding him close.

“Since I’m staying with you, now you absolutely have to promise to stay with me,” Mark reasoned.

Ethan smiled, already drifting off peacefully as Mark’s body heat gave him warmth. “I promise,” he said finally. “I’ll stay.”

—

The night of the incident, Mark had entered his and Amy’s room and joined her on the bed, pulling the duvet over both of them and giving her a kiss.

“You seem oddly passionate tonight,” Amy giggled, reflecting on the heated kiss. “Do you want to, you know—“

“Actually, I’m not really feeling it tonight,” Mark said. “Plus, it would be weird doing it with Ethan right down the hall.”

“Mark,” Amy said knowingly, “is there another reason you don’t want to? You have this look on your face like there’s something you want to tell me.”

Mark chuckled. “You know me too well.” 

“So what is it?”

After clearing his throat, Mark began, “There is something I should tell you. It happened a little while ago, but I feel guilty about it and you deserve to know. And I’m aware that what I did was wrong—“

“Mark,” Amy interrupted, “stop rambling. I know you, and whatever you did can’t be that bad. Just tell me so we can talk through it.”

Mark nodded. “It’s about Ethan. Well, Ethan and me. A couple of weeks ago, we had finished recording the pillow fort video, and we went in together just to hang out or whatever. Anyway, long story short. . . I kissed him, I guess.”

“You guess?” Amy snickered.

“Well, I mean, I did kiss him. Because I wanted to, although I wasn’t actually going to do it but then I saw his sad, beautiful eyes and he looked so irresistible at the time—“ He stopped himself when he saw Amy quirk an eyebrow. “Of course, it’s not that I love him or anything, I just have had some feelings these past few months that I’ve been repressing because I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.”

Amy smiled. “How did it feel when you kissed him?” she asked.

Mark felt his face redden due to the question, but he felt compelled to answer her anyway. “Like I needed to do it a million more times.”

“Mark, I think you do love Ethan.”

Mark shot up into a sitting position and crossed his arms. “I do not! And why are you so calm about this?”

Amy shook her head and laughed. “I knew there was something going on between you guys. It may not be obvious on camera, but it is any other time. I’m not surprised you made a move, and it’s okay.”

“H-How is it okay?” Mark asked in disbelief.

“I love you Mark, so much, but maybe you and I are better off as close friends. When I think about you and Ethan together, it makes sense. You should be with him. Yes, I’m a little upset about it, but I’ve had a lot of time to entertain the idea that you and I might not end up together.”

“Are you saying that you want me to go after him?” asked Mark.

“Yeah! But you’re going to have to be okay with ending our romantic relationship, because I don’t condone polygamy.”

Mark laid back down on his back and put his palms on his face, covering his eyes. “I do love you, Amy. Is it bad that lately it’s been less romantic and more platonic anyway?”

“No, honey, it just means you’re falling in love with someone else,” Amy said matter-of-factly.

“So are we breaking up?” asked Mark, turning to look at her.

Amy put a hand on his shoulder and smiled softly. “At least we can say it’s mutual.”

“Okay, but don’t you dare be sad about it,” Mark said, pointing a finger at her.

“Like I said, I’ve had a lot of time to dwell on it already since I saw this coming,” Amy laughed. “So I’m okay now. I assume you don’t want to live together once you get Ethan to be your lover?”

“Don’t say it like that, it’s weird,” Mark mumbled, blushing again. “And it would make sense if one of us moved out. Honestly, I feel like you deserve the house since I’m kind of leaving you for a guy.”

Amy snorted. “Okay, you’re not ‘leaving me’ just because of Ethan, we both know that. Wait, do you—do you think you’re gay?”

Mark groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Amy patted his head. “Okay, Marky, whatever you say. And no, you’re keeping the house. If things work out between you and Ethan, he and I might as well just switch living spaces. I can move in with Kathryn, and he can move in with you. Sound good?”

“That’s so unfair to you though,” said Mark. “I don’t want you to have to go from living in this big house to living in an apartment.”

“Mark, it’s okay. I honestly don’t mind. Besides, having Kathryn as my roommate is going to be pretty great. So I’m going to move in with her if you and Ethan get together, okay?”

Mark gave a thumbs up but said, “This is weird,” his voice muffled by the pillow.

Amy nodded. “It is, but I think it’ll turn out alright. I’m going to head to the bathroom before bed. We’re still going to sleep in the same bed for now, right?”

Mark lifted his head and smiled. “Of course! I couldn’t sleep right now without my best girl next to me.”

“Shut up,” Amy said lightheartedly, tossing her pillow at his head when she stood up. She turned on the bathroom light and noticed that the cabinet door was slightly ajar. Not even a minute later, she came across Ethan’s almost unconscious body. “Mark!” she called down the hall. “Mark!”

—

When Mark finally drove Ethan back home, the latter remembered the promise of a talk. After they had gone inside and sat down on Ethan’s couch, he spoke.

“I don’t really know how to start this conversation, but—“ He paused to clear his throat and run his hand through his hair. “What are we?”

Mark shifted his body so that he was facing Ethan more. “I want to be with you,” he said boldly. 

“What about Amy?”

Mark sighed. “Funnily enough, Amy and I had a talk the other night, the night you tried to. . . y’know. I told her about how we kissed a couple of weeks ago, and she was so understanding. We ended up—we broke up, but it sounds a lot worse than it was when I say it bluntly.” Mark looked up at Ethan’s confused and shocked face and shook his head. “Sorry if I’m taking forever to explain this, um—“

“No, all of this is shocking, but what’s worse is I’ve never seen you this flustered and nervous before,” said Ethan.

“Yeah, haha, I just. . . well, I really like you. I guess the feelings are messing with my brain,” Mark said with a chuckle. “Well, I’m single now, and Amy actually encouraged me to ask you out. So, without further ado—“ He gently took one of Ethan’s hands and caressed it with his own. “Will you be my boyfriend?” It came out in a whisper, like he was afraid of the words.

“I never thought I’d actually be able to call Mark Fischbach my boyfriend,” Ethan said, staring at his hand in Mark’s. “Yes, of course I’ll be yours.”

Mark almost lurched forward before he remembered his manners. “Can I kiss you?” he asked sheepishly, and Ethan nodded.

For the third time overall but for the first time as a couple, they kissed, their lips moving in tandem for a few short moments before Mark pulled back. Eager as ever, he leaned his head down a bit to plant kisses along Ethan’s jawline and then onto his neck, and the latter gasped before moving to gently push Mark off of him.

“M-Mark, I want to take this slow,” he said softly, seemingly nervous about his request as he fidgeted in his seat.

Mark pulled away and almost facepalmed. He hoped he hadn’t freaked Ethan out. “Of course, I’m sorry. I’ve just wanted to do so many things to you for so long.”

Ethan blushed deeply, flattered by Mark’s words but all too nervous. Mark seemed to have noticed quickly, because he asked about it. “Did I freak you out? Are you okay?”

Ethan shook his head and tried to speak. “It’s okay, I overreact about a lot of stuff, um. . . God, I want to kiss you and do so much more with you right now but my anxiety is telling me no.” It suddenly felt hard to breathe, and Mark scooted closer to him and engulfed him in a hug.

“It’s alright, we don’t have to do anything until you’re 100% ready. Do you just want to cuddle for now?”

Relief flooded through Ethan’s veins, glad he wouldn’t have to ask. “Yes please.” After some moving around, they managed to lie together on the couch, facing each other with Ethan’s head buried in Mark’s shoulder.

“I’m incredibly grateful that you’re alive,” Mark whispered, rubbing Ethan’s back. 

“Yeah,” Ethan responded, pressing himself a little closer to Mark. “Me too.”


	8. A Little Love

Ethan stood in Mark’s kitchen chopping onions. “Now exactly how much do you like onion?” he asked, to which Mark shook his head and laughed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been learning how to cook?” he asked. It had been two weeks since they started dating. Things had been moving slowly aside from the fact that Ethan already moved in with Mark, and Amy had moved in with Kathryn. Mark felt awful about having Amy move out of such a nice house, but she told him over and over not to worry about it. She was happy for him. Mark and Ethan hadn’t been on any dates out in public yet, but they had had a few romantic nights at home. 

On this particular night, Ethan decided to cook Mark a nice late dinner. The two had shared a plethora of meals together in the span of two weeks, and Mark was proud of Ethan for gradually eating more regularly and consuming larger meals. What Ethan didn’t tell him was that he had purposefully regurgitated at least half of those meals. Really, he felt horrible whenever he did it, but he still couldn’t accept his body and was truly convinced that he needed to lose weight. 

As Ethan chopped the onions, he stared carefully at the knife in his hand. Nice and sharp, being put to use for a good reason. Ethan didn’t have any intrusive thoughts until he looked away for a moment and barely sliced a layer of skin off of one of his fingers. He yelped in pain but kept the knife in his right hand, examining the small injury on his left one. Mark looked up in concern.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked. 

Ethan nodded. “Mhm. It’s not that bad.” He practically glared at the knife, his hand shaking slightly as he desperately tried to push away the sudden urge to hurt himself. He seemed to fail, though, because he found himself slowly bringing the blade closer to his forearm until it was pressed gently on his skin.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” Mark questioned, unsure of how to diffuse the situation in front of him.

“Nothing. . . I-I don’t know.” Ethan pressed a little harder, and then he felt Mark’s hand wrap around his.

“You can stop. Let go of the knife, okay?” Ethan tore his eyes away from his forearm to make eye contact with Mark, who seemed so genuinely concerned that it made Ethan unable to move; it made him unable to hurt himself. After what felt like an eternity of staring at his boyfriend, he moved the knife away from his arm and set it down on the counter.

Mark smiled and said, “Yeah, it’s okay. You did a great job. Why’d that happen?”

“I don’t know, the, uh—the urge to do it comes at the most random times,” Ethan said, laughing nervously at the end of his sentence.

“Are you okay to keep cooking?” asked Mark.

Ethan nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I just need a second. I’m okay.” He gave Mark a weak smile.

“You’re okay.”

—

After Ethan had calmed down and finished making dinner, he and Mark ate while watching a movie in the living room, some romantic comedy Mark thought would be just the right mix of cheesy, funny, and cringy. Towards the end of the movie, Ethan zoned out as he snuggled closer to Mark on the couch, putting a hand on his chest, tangling their legs together. . . being generally obnoxious. Fortunately, Mark didn’t mind, and he elected to forget about the half-decent movie in favor of giving his boyfriend some attention. He ruffled Ethan’s hair a bit and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead, blushing when he thought about who he was kissing. Mark was in no way homophobic, but after so many years of thinking he was straight, he could hardly believe he had a boyfriend.

Ethan seemed to like the kissing idea, because he tilted his head up and captured Mark’s lips with his own. They had kissed many times by this point, but make-out sessions were somewhat new. That’s what they found themselves doing though, as the movie came to a close and the credits rolled. Eventually, Mark pulled away and turned off the TV, getting more comfortable on the couch and going back to kissing Ethan, who let out a whine at the contact. Mark took this as a sign to continue, feeling the first signs of arousal when Ethan whined again, grabbing Mark’s shoulders. Soon, Mark felt his hands wander underneath Ethan’s shirt, feeling the soft yet muscled skin there and reaching up further to stimulate his nipples. But before he had the chance, Ethan grabbed his wrists and disconnected their lips.

“I’m not ready,” he said breathily, his voice small and sounding embarrassed to make the confession. Mark took Ethan’s hands in his and nodded.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” he said. “I don’t want anything to happen if you’re not completely comfortable with it.”

Ethan sighed in relief and squeezed Mark’s hands. “There’s a part of me that wants to, but it’s hard to work past the nerves.”

“I get it, it’s perfectly okay,” said Mark. “Do you just want to go to bed?”

Ethan nodded sheepishly and let Mark lead him up to their now shared bedroom. He laid down on his side under the covers and felt Mark lay behind him, wrapping his arms around Ethan and holding him tight. Ethan wasn’t sure how he’d gotten lucky enough for Mark to reciprocate his feelings, but he started to think that maybe he was finally getting repaid for all of the things gone wrong in his life. And it felt incredible.

With Mark’s arms around him and the feeling that things might be getting better, Ethan fell asleep in record time.

—

Hours later, Mark suddenly found himself awake, immediately realizing the lack of warmth beside him. He sat up and glanced at the clock; it was still the middle of the night. Where was Ethan? Mark sighed, feeling odd being alone in the bed, and he couldn’t help but worry about his boyfriend. Where had he gone? Was he okay? What if he hurt himself again? Rather than sitting there worrying about him, Mark decided to get up and check on him to make sure nothing bad had happened.

He couldn’t find Ethan anywhere upstairs, and a feeling of dread spread through his body the longer he searched. Eventually, he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where he found Ethan sitting on the countertop.

“Ethan? Why are you up?” Mark asked, relieved to find him yet still worried he may have done something.

Ethan whipped his head around and made eye contact, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Not really sure why I came down here.”

“Are you okay? Did you do anything you’re not supposed to?” questioned Mark. 

Ethan shook his head. “Nope. I thought about it, but I didn’t. I promise.” Mark finally felt complete relief after hearing the words. He walked over to Ethan and put his hands on his hips, leaning in for a kiss. When he pulled away and looked into Ethan’s eyes, he saw amusement.

“Were you worried about me?” asked Ethan.

“Of course I was! I love you,” said Mark, quietly due to the silence around them. Ethan hopped off of the counter and took Mark’s hands in his.

“Hey, I had a dream where we danced in this kitchen for no particular reason,” Ethan said.

Mark snickered. “Is that your way of saying you want to dance with me right here in this kitchen in the middle of the night?” 

“Maybe,” Ethan mumbled, his face flushing. “We could put our salsa dancing skills to use.”

“You’re right,” Mark agreed and stepped back, holding out his hand for Ethan to take. “I might as well ask you professionally; would you like to dance?” Ethan giggled and took his hand, but before they began he used his other hand to retrieve his phone from his back pocket and play a song.

“We can’t dance without music,” he reasoned, placing his phone on the counter before turning back to Mark. Now that they had a beat, their feet moved, taking a minute to find a rhythm but soon moving in sync. They danced for an hour or so, trying out different moves here and there and laughing through their failed attempts. When the first sign of a sunrise appeared, they stopped the music and went back up to bed, deciding it would be okay to sleep in just this once.

Life could be put on hold for a few hours, just as long as they were happy.


	9. Falling Down

Despite the lovely nights Mark and Ethan shared together, the latter could tell he was heading towards another low. There were signs that led him to such a conclusion: he started sleeping less, worrying more, getting hung up over little things, and losing his appetite. It happened gradually enough that he knew Mark wouldn’t notice for a while, but maybe that was for the best. Ethan tried to get better, but he always knew there was no way to avoid an episode.

Though, what he experienced this time around wasn’t exactly a full-blown episode. He spent most of the day in bed, yes, but he still talked to Mark throughout the day and got up a few times to do little things. Mark tried to get him to eat, but he refused, and even through Mark’s desperate expression Ethan could see annoyance there. This is why Ethan feared having an episode in front of Mark. He truly believed this might cause the end of their short-lived relationship.

That evening, Mark had gone out to get groceries and Ethan had the house to himself. He laid in bed, staring out the window when he got the all too familiar urge. Immediately his gaze flickered to the closet, where he knew Mark put the box of sharp things. If it was supposed to be hidden, why would he hide it in such an obvious place? Ethan didn’t want Mark to get mad at him for self-harming, but he wanted to cut so bad, and the opportunity was right there. So he gave in, not caring to weigh his options first.

Would you call it a relapse? Probably.

He didn’t really regret it until Mark got home and came upstairs to spend time with him, immediately noticing the fresh cuts since Ethan didn’t have the energy to put a hoodie on over his t-shirt. Mark felt his heart break a little at the sight of someone he cared about so much lying in bed with sliced up arms and a zoned out demeanor. He and Ethan got into an argument over it, and Mark lost himself in the moment, forgetting to be gentle with someone so clearly fragile at the time.

“Stop yelling at me! Maybe you should’ve hidden the stuff better!” Ethan said loudly, standing up next to the bed and flailing his arms around wildly.

“I shouldn’t have had to! You should know better, Ethan! You won’t be able to stop if you have no self-control!” Mark shouted.

“It’s not about self-control! When the urge comes, it’s practically unstoppable. I explained this to you the other night, you just clearly don’t understand!”

“How am I supposed to help you if you can’t help yourself?”

“You’re supposed to help me first by being my training wheels so I can slowly learn to help myself, Mark! It’s not rocket science!”

“Well I can’t be right next to you 24 hours a day, and it seems like the moment I’m gone you give in to the ‘urge’. Do you know how concerning that is? I don’t want to be worried about you every moment I’m not with you!”

“You don’t have to be! I’m not going to hurt myself every time you leave! I said I want you to help me, but that doesn’t mean I rely on you for everything!”

“I don’t understand why you can’t get better, Ethan. I’m right here! I’m trying to help you, but you’re just shouting at me!”

“You fucking started it! I didn’t want to argue with you, Mark, but you’re being an asshole! You’re supposed to fucking comfort me, not yell at me for making a mistake.”

“I’m only arguing with you because I care! If all I ever do is comfort you when you cut yourself, you’ll subconsciously keep thinking it’s okay!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to resort to fighting with me! Why are you being so difficult?” Ethan stomped his foot on the ground and balled his hands into fists, clearly angry.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucked up it wouldn’t be so easy to argue,” Mark retorted, not for a second thinking about his words before they came out. He instantly knew he made a mistake, hell, he didn’t even mean what he said in the slightest. But he couldn’t take it back, and Ethan drew back as if he had just been kicked, looking defeated as his shoulders came up and he played with the hem of his shirt, looking down at the floor.

“You don’t have to remind me I’m not good enough,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. Before Mark could think of anything to say to diffuse the situation, Ethan ran out of the room and down the hall to the guest bedroom, probably deciding to spend the night there. Mark’s heart told him to follow Ethan and fix things immediately, but his brain told him to wait an hour or two so they could both calm down. He went with the second option, sitting down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. 

How badly had he upset poor Ethan?

—

When an hour and a half had passed and Mark found himself growing tired, he glanced at the time and realized it was probably time to sleep. He pulled back the duvet but stopped in his tracks when he heard a sob from down the hall, and he guiltily replayed the argument from earlier in his mind. Why hadn’t he checked on Ethan yet? His blue boy had probably been crying his eyes out for the past hour and a half, and for all he knew, Mark didn’t even seem to care! Mark rushed to the guest bedroom and went to open the door, quickly finding that it was locked.

“Ethan, can we please talk?” asked Mark, leaning his head against the doorframe. “I’m so sorry baby, please let me in.” He heard shuffling and a bit of sniffling before the door opened, and he was met with a meek, bleary-eyed Ethan.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” he asked softly, rubbing his eyes. 

“No, not at all! I don’t know why I said it, I really didn’t mean it one bit. I’m so so sorry, please don’t ever think I would mean what I said then.”

“I know I’m fucked up though,” said Ethan. “So you weren’t really wrong.”

Mark stepped inside the room and wrapped his arms around his boy in a tight hug. “No, we’re both wrong. You’re not fucked up at all, you’re a wonderful person who just happens to have a few issues.”

“Please don’t yell at me next time,” Ethan whispered weakly.

“I don’t ever want to yell at you again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” He pulled back slightly to look at Ethan. “And you know what? There won’t be a next time. I’m going to help you avoid that urge you mention sometimes.”

“Mark, can I tell you something?” Ethan asked when Mark finally pulled away from the hug.

“Anything,” he breathed.

“I-I’m scared of myself. When I remember how I tried to end it all, I-I think, what if I do that again when I’m not in my right mind? I don’t want to leave you, even though life is shit most of the time. I don’t.”

Mark put his hands on Ethan’s shoulders and attempted a smile. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Eth. I know you won’t ever try to do that again, and worrying that you will isn’t going to help you.”

“But I’m already hurting myself; another suicide attempt is the next step up.”

“Hey, come on, don’t say that.”

Ethan sighed. “I’m going to die with these scars still on my body. It could be sixty years from now, but they’ll still be there.”

Mark pulled him closer and stroked his hair. “I know you’ve been eating yourself up over this because you think you’ve made an irreversible mistake, but you’ve got to forgive yourself. Everyone has scars, Ethan. Yours are just a little different.”

Ethan smiled. “Thank you, but it’s hard. Especially since I relapsed today. I keep wondering when the last time I do it is going to be.”

“It’s best not to think about it,” said Mark. “You have to treat every time like it’s your last time.”

“Right,” Ethan mumbled. “Mark, there’s something else I should have mentioned.”

“What is it?” Mark asked.

“I’ve been—well, this is kind of unrelated, but you know how I used to not eat, but we’ve been working on that?” Mark nodded. “Well, I don’t think I’ve made much progress. I, um, I’ve been making myself throw up most of the stuff I eat.”

Mark’s heart sank, and he pulled Ethan into another hug. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We’ll fix that too.”

“How?” asked Ethan, starting to cry.

“I don’t know yet, but we will. How about we go to bed and talk more about it tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Ethan muttered, letting Mark drag him down the hall to their room.

“Have you thought about going to therapy?” Mark asked when they were under the covers. Ethan’s eyes went wide, which Mark noticed even in darkness.

“No, I can’t. I can’t do that, I just—“

“It was just an idea,” Mark interrupted. “It’s perfectly okay if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Ethan visibly relaxed. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Come on, you should stop apologizing so much,” Mark chuckled. Ethan chuckled with him, trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah, maybe. Sorr—uh, cuddle me.”

Mark laughed a bit louder, scooting closer to Ethan and pulling him close. “Dork.”

—

The next month came to a close, and Ethan started to feel like himself again. He was always himself, but he saw the troubled, melancholy Ethan as a different “self” compared to regular Ethan. Mark slowly became a master of reading him, and every time Ethan had done something or was going to do something he wasn’t supposed to, Mark could tell. It came in handy with Ethan’s eating disorders, which took a hell of a lot of coaching to make a dent in. Every few days, Ethan would admit to indulging in bulimic tendencies, and each time, Mark would sit him down and have a long conversation about why it happened and how to try to avoid it in the future. After so many talks about the same thing, Ethan started trying to change the subject, so Mark switched to a different tactic. 

“Why specifically do you feel insecure about your body?” he started to ask. “What isn’t there to like about how you look?” He had to choose his words carefully, because if he only complimented Ethan over and over to try to get him to think he looks amazing, it wouldn’t work at all. Ethan didn’t know how to take a compliment and always deflected them; only on the rarest occasion would he say “thank you” rather than being incredibly humble. So Mark started by asking Ethan why he was insecure about his appearance, and Ethan answered perhaps a bit too in detail, and it hurt Mark to see Ethan go on and on about the things he disliked about how he looked. Mark did his best, explaining that by not digesting enough food Ethan would only look unhealthy rather than attractively skinny. Ethan nodded along to Mark’s words, but even he was unsure if he was really listening. They found over a short period of time that Ethan had a problem with spacing out at the worst times, and it wasn’t just his ADHD.

But as time went on, things did get better. Ethan became brutally honest to the point where Mark would know immediately if he had thrown up a meal again, and the frequency of such a confession decreased steadily. Of course, the habit was still there, because it takes a very long time to stop doing something that once gave you comfort. Mark considered himself lucky to wake up in the middle of the night and catch Ethan staring at himself in the rectangular mirror propped up against the wall in their bedroom, his eyes narrowed and head tilted, obviously unhappy with what he saw. Mark shrugged the covers off of his body and got up to stand behind Ethan, placing his hands on the shorter male’s shoulders and looking into the mirror as well. He only felt lucky because he knew he’d caught Ethan before the latter could make himself vomit again, definitely not happy that he woke up in the middle of the night. But it was worth it for Ethan.

“Have you realized how beautiful you are yet?” Mark whispered, rubbing his hands up and down Ethan’s shoulders comfortingly. 

Ethan pursed his lips and sighed. “I’m not overweight. I know that. Honestly though, maybe it’s the dim lighting in here but I just look kind of weird.”

Mark chuckled. “Weird? Not the word I would use at all. Though if we’re being completely honest with each other here, your hair is all over the place right now.”

“Finally, you managed to say something other than how breathtakingly gorgeous I am,” said Ethan, clearly not believing the words himself as he stared at his body.

“Come on, babe, let’s go back to bed.” Mark dragged Ethan away from the mirror and got back under the covers with him, planting kisses all along his collarbone as he whispered nonsense about how lucky he was to have Ethan as his boyfriend, let alone in his life at all. Ethan fell asleep that night as Mark continued to kiss him, trying to forget his concerns about his form and relishing in the feeling of Mark’s lips on his body.

Though Mark didn’t start to fix Ethan’s problems all on his own, he had certainly helped a great deal. One of the reasons Ethan now had to not self-harm was knowing that it would hurt Mark too, and every time he got that familiar urge, he found it easier to resist. And whenever he would tell Mark that he had the ability to resist the violent urge to hurt himself, Mark was always so proud. 

Ethan began to enjoy life again, feeling less day-to-day dread over things he didn’t even need to think about. He remembered Mark saying multiple times that it was a waste of time to try to find a purpose in life or a reason for being there, and Ethan finally agreed after several near sleepless nights lying in bed next to him. Though one night, as Ethan and Mark were just heading to bed, the former’s phone rang with a call from his dad. He picked up immediately, a slight nagging in his brain that tried to tell him something wasn’t right.

That part of his brain happened to be correct.

Despite all of their hard work and progress, a single phone call made everything go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now what could that phone call possibly be about?
> 
> Guess we'll find out tomorrow...


	10. An Early Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for the events that unfold in the beginning of this chapter. Yes, I feel horrible for writing it.

Mark watched intently as Ethan answered his phone, wondering why he’d get a call so late. “Hey dad, what’s up?” The volume wasn’t loud enough for Mark to hear despite him being right next to Ethan, so all he could do was watch Ethan’s facial expressions and responses to get an idea of what the situation was. He took time to appreciate Ethan’s features while looking at him, but he was brought back to reality when Ethan’s face fell. “What? What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice higher than normal. His breathing picked up speed, and he briefly glanced at Mark. “This c-can’t be happening, are you sure it was him?” Ethan started to shake, losing any sort of breathing pattern he had, and he said, “Okay, can we talk about it tomorrow please? I have to go.” His voice got higher with each word, and he hung up before his father could say anything else. With a shaky hand, he put his phone back on the nightstand and froze, holding his breath.

“Ethan?” said Mark cautiously. “Are you okay? What happened? Can you breathe?” Ethan rapidly shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, his breaths only coming every now and then in gasps. “Shit, okay, come on, you’re okay,” Mark mumbled, putting his hands on Ethan’s shoulders and gently rubbing to try to calm him down. “You need to breathe, baby, breathe with me like we’ve practiced.” With several minutes of effort, Ethan gradually regained the ability to breathe properly, but when he tried to say something he burst into tears. Mark held him without question, stroking his hair and whispering comforting things to him. When the crying got somewhat under control, Ethan tried to speak again.

“It’s my brother,” he cried, hiccuping, “h-he got in a car crash. He’s dead, and I can’t—I c-can’t—“

Panic struck Mark in a millisecond, and he struggled to find a way to help the pain Ethan must be feeling. “Shh, it’ll be alright, god, I’m so sorry. . .” Ethan cried harder again, tears flowing down his face consistently, his eyes leaking like a faucet. 

“How will it be alright?” he wailed, and Mark mentally kicked himself. Of course it wasn’t alright, he just didn’t know what to say.

“It doesn’t seem like it right now, but it will be okay soon,” he said softly. Ethan gripped his own hair and tugged, biting his lip to quiet down.

“My fucking brother is dead, Mark, it’s not okay for him,” he whispered. He tried to wriggle out of Mark’s hold, but the latter held him down. “Let go of me,” he pleaded.

“No,” said Mark sternly, “if I let you go, you’re going to hurt yourself. I know you will.”

“You don’t know that!” Ethan exclaimed with a gasp. “I’ve been better!”

“Yes, but you’re in pain right now, and I bet hurting yourself seems pretty enticing at the moment.” Ethan glared at Mark. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” Ethan gritted out, breaking eye contact. Mark looked at him, his back pressed to the headboard and his wrists pinned beside him, tears streaking down his face. The epitome of pitiful, and Mark felt more than a twinge of grief just at the sight.

“Eth, I can’t imagine the amount of hurt running through you right now,” Mark said in his nicest, softest voice, “but I need you to stay with me. You need to stay in this bed with me so we can fall asleep together, and we won’t think about this until the morning.”

“How do I avoid thinking about it?” Ethan whispered hoarsely.

Mark slowly released his grip on Ethan’s wrists. “Think about me instead. Think about my deep, calming voice and my long, soft hair. Think about my hands, the ones that were just touching you. Think about how it feels when I wrap my arms around you. Are you thinking about me?”

The tears on Ethan’s face began to dry as he spoke. “Yeah, Mark. I’m thinking about your dark eyes that look even darker at night. I’m thinking about how warm your body is. I’m—I’m cold.”

“Come here,” said Mark, laying down and patting the space between them. Ethan slithered down close to Mark, rolling onto his other side so they could spoon. When they were comfortable, Mark pressed a kiss to the back of Ethan’s head.

“See, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about anything until the morning. Just keep thinking about me.”

“I love you,” Ethan said brokenly. Mark closed his eyes.

“I love you too. So much. Just think about me.”

“Jus’ think about you. . .”

—

Ethan woke up the next morning to Mark pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He wanted to appreciate the gesture, but all he could think about was his dead brother.

“How are you feeling?” Mark asked a few minutes later.

“I can’t remember the last thing I said to him,” Ethan whispered, looking up into Mark’s eyes.

“Would it be better for you to try not to think about him until the funeral?” 

Ethan nodded. “It’s just hard to think about anything else.”

A sympathetic smile crossed Mark’s lips, and he reached a hand up to play with Ethan’s hair. “Think about. . . breakfast. Want me to make pancakes?”

Ethan looked down. “I don’t know. I’m not that hungry.”

“That’s okay,” said Mark quickly. “We can eat whenever you feel like it. Do you want to try to sleep more?”

Ethan shook his head. “Not tired enough. I don’t think I can get out of bed, though,” he said quietly, his cheeks flushing a pinkish color.

“Is it because. . .?” Ethan nodded before Mark could finish, both of them knowing what this meant. An episode.

“Stay here for as long as you need. I’m going to shower and then I’ll come back in and see what’s up.” Mark removed his body from its position next to Ethan’s and grabbed some clothes from the dresser before promptly leaving the room. Ethan closed his eyes and sighed, hoping that maybe he would have more energy in an hour or two. 

His wish didn’t come true, and he reached a point where he wouldn’t even speak. He laid in bed, still under the covers, facing away from Mark and hardly hearing what the latter was saying. It probably wasn’t important anyway.

“Ethan, baby, please look at me or at least say something,” Mark pleaded. If Ethan wasn’t even talking, this was a severe episode.

Ethan just exhaled and blinked slowly, not finding any significant thing to say. He didn’t want to waste the little bit of energy he had trying to speak. Mark shook him a little, afraid that Ethan might be completely shut down. “Can you even hear me?” he asked, almost brokenly. Reluctantly, Ethan rolled over onto his back and nodded slowly.

“Are you not talking because you’re upset or because you’re too tired?” asked Mark. Ethan held up two fingers, his way of choosing the second option. Mark would have giggled at the gesture if not for the seriousness of the situation.

“Do you want me to leave or stay?” Mark asked, and Ethan stared up at the ceiling for a moment before raising his two fingers again. Mark rested his back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling like Ethan was doing. “I could play songs for you if you want. On my guitar. I’ll sing for you.” Ethan nodded, and though his heart was heavy he let himself smile just the tiniest bit. 

Mark sang a song about love, and Ethan listened carefully to the deep voice practically serenading him. Mark always had a wonderful voice. It made things easier on a grieving boy.

Then Mark sang a song about loss, and Ethan didn’t even realize there were tears prickling at the corners of his eyes until Mark stopped and carefully wiped them away.

“It won’t always hurt so much,” said Mark softly. “After a while, the pain goes away despite how much you miss them.”

Ethan attempted a feeble smile. How long would it take for the hurting to stop? Weeks? Months? Years? He lost his brother, for god’s sake.

“I know you’ve lost someone close to you,” Mark said, as if hearing Ethan’s thoughts, “but it stops hurting all the same. You’ll get to a point where you smile at the memories you have with the person instead of crying because you can’t make more.”

Mark always had a way with words. It made things easier on a grieving boy.

“Can you try getting out of bed for me? I know you don’t want to lay here all day.”

Somehow, it took less than maximum effort for Ethan to sit up and scoot towards the edge of the bed, letting his feet rest on the floor and looking back at Mark for praise.

“Look at how brave you are,” Mark said with a smile. “How about we go downstairs and try to eat something?” Ethan still wasn’t hungry, but with the way Mark had phrased the sentence, he didn’t really mind the idea.

Mark always had a crazy amount of charisma and great persuasion skills.

It made things easier on a grieving boy.


	11. Low And Lower

A reflection in the mirror stared at Ethan, the mirrored form seemingly distorted, probably due to the grief and stress sitting on the boy’s shoulders. He looked like a black pool of despair, his pale skin a contrast to his completely black “Unus” suit. He frowned, tilting his head and disliking what he saw in his own appearance. Chapped lips sat below his dull eyes, which were a brownish color on such a dark day. He tore his eyes away from the mirror to glance out the bedroom window, seeing grey skies and no sign of the sun. Turning his face back to the mirror, Ethan gazed at the glass while Mark stepped up behind him, Ethan’s eyes drifting from his own face to his lover’s. Despite being a bit dressed down compared to Ethan, Mark still managed to look equally as dapper, his dark grey button-down shirt tucked neatly into his black dress pants. Mark looked away from the mirror, his eyes practically boring holes into the back of Ethan’s neck instead. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s torso and hugged him from behind, offering comfort in a time of need.

“Do I look okay?” asked Ethan, shifting his eyes to look back at himself again.

“You look impeccable. You always do,” Mark whispered, sincerity in his words.

Ethan offered a sad chuckle. “Sure, that’s definitely true.”

Mark chose not to respond, pressing a kiss to Ethan’s temple and exhaling slowly. “How are you feeling? Scale of 0 to 10.”

“Hm, 0 being suicidal and 10 being euphoric, a solid 4.” Ethan turned his body away from the mirror and looked at Mark. “I’ll be a 2 when I see him though.”

Mark nodded and ran a hand through his hair, wracked with nervous energy. A day like this for Ethan had low chances of ending well. He just hoped they could get through it without any incidents.

The car ride to the funeral home was quiet, but rightfully so. Anything the boys could talk about wouldn’t seem right discussing on a day like this. Distant thunder rumbled as the Tesla pulled into the parking lot, and Mark looked expectantly over at Ethan.

“Let’s go,” Ethan said shakily, ridden with anxiety and the sinking feeling that as soon as he would see his brother in a casket he might burst into tears in front of his entire family. Mark seemed to know what he was thinking, because he took Ethan’s hand as they made their way into the building.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said softly. “I’m right here, and no one is going to judge you if you get emotional.”

Ethan nodded, pulling open the front door and keeping his other hand in Mark’s. “Thank you,” he whispered as they stepped inside.

Ethan’s parents immediately spotted them, slowly making their way over and greeting the two with sad smiles. “How are you holding up?” Ethan’s dad asked, his hands in his pockets.

“About as well as you’d expect, I guess,” said Ethan, heat rising to his cheeks. He and his dad were close, but he would still feel embarrassed if his dad knew just how much this had taken a toll on him.

Ethan’s mother trailed her eyes down to his and Mark’s entwined fingers. “You brought a. . . friend?” she questioned hopefully.

Ethan glanced briefly at Mark, receiving a nod from the other. He cleared his throat and looked back and forth between his parents, somehow gathering the courage to say, “He’s not just a friend. Mark is—well, we’re together.”

It would have taken much more effort to get out if he was more worried about his parents not accepting the relationship. He had a sneaking suspicion that his dad could tell something was going on between Ethan and Mark, and there were never any negative comments about it. The truth is, Ethan would have only been reluctant to out his relationship to his parents if he was ashamed about being with Mark, which he most definitely wasn’t. And he could admit to himself that saying he and Mark were together felt pretty damn good, even on a dark day.

Ethan’s dad grinned. “I’m happy for you,” he said to both Ethan and Mark, then turned to only Ethan and mouthed the words “I knew it”. Ethan grinned back.

However, when he looked over at his mother, she had a mix of shock and disgust plastered on her face, nearly repulsed by the idea of her son with another man. “You’re gay?” she asked, and Ethan froze, panic rising in his chest as it dawned on him that he had made a mistake. He nodded and gulped, fearing the worst. His mother stepped back, placing a hand on her heart. “You can’t be serious. I did not raise a faggot!”

Oh, that definitely stung. It almost felt as though Ethan’s mother stabbed him in the lungs with knives as he felt all of the air mysteriously being sucked out of him. It’s like he had the wind knocked out of him by a single word. Mark looked at Ethan, concerned and offended himself and he whipped his head back the other way to glare at Ethan’s mother, anger and disdain swirling in his dark irises. 

Ethan’s dad turned toward his wife and reciprocated the look of disgust she still had on her face. He told her to stop and apologize, but it wouldn’t matter anyway because Ethan had started to block out what was happening around him, sinking deeper and deeper into a state of numbness. All he could hear was the sound of his heart beating way too frequently for his liking, and then Mark was shaking him and he snapped back to reality just long enough to hear his mother’s next remark.

“You are a disgrace to this family,” she said, still not stopping despite the efforts of her husband. Fury built up in Mark’s entire body, ready to slap this woman with the force of a thousand men. And as if what she had already said wasn’t hurtful enough, her last comment would be traumatizing. “It should’ve been you who died in that car crash, not your brother.”

Ethan stumbled backwards, fighting for air as he turned on his heel and ran as quickly as he could to the bathroom, not having the focus to care about how odd he must have looked to everyone else in the room. He closed the door behind him once inside and forgot to lock it, already slumping down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and wheezing. Although her reasoning was wrong, Ethan’s mother was right. It should have been him. His brother had so many more people who cared about him and needed him. Ethan couldn’t even compare. As he fought for air and struggled to see through the tears in his eyes, Mark came barreling through the door, crouching down next to him. His expression turned from angry to concerned, saying something Ethan couldn’t hear over the voices in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and placed his hands over his ears as he sobbed, breathing in gasps. Mark placed his hands on top of Ethan’s and guided them away from his ears. The warmth of Mark’s hands brought Ethan back to the real world for a moment, and he noticed the burning sensation in his lungs from being starved of air. His eyes popped open and he stared at Mark’s lips, trying to make out what he was saying.

“—hear me?” His voice finally broke through the barrier, and Ethan squeezed Mark’s hands. “Ethan?”

“I can hear you,” Ethan gasped, his heart rate probably reaching its maximum level. He inhaled for maybe half a second before letting the breath back out, unable to breathe properly still.

“You have to breathe, baby,” said Mark in a voice low and soothing. Ethan tried for several minutes to do so, and he found that every time he would almost regulate his breathing, he would think back to his mother’s words and lose the pattern. 

“Come on,” Mark coaxed, rubbing his thumb over Ethan’s. “You can do it.”

“M-My mom,” Ethan cried out. “She was right about—about the last thing.”

“No,” Mark replied sternly. “She most definitely was not. I told her off before I came in here. I obviously wouldn’t get away with hitting her, but I had to do something. I have a good feeling she won’t say anything else.”

After Ethan had eventually calmed down, he washed his face and fixed his hair, receiving reassurance from Mark as they waited for the redness in his eyes to fade. When he was ready, the two made their way back to the main room, Ethan looking at the floor out of embarrassment.

“It’s alright,” Mark whispered to him. “No one here is judging you. All they saw was you running off to the bathroom. Hell, for all they know, you might have just needed to take a shit.”

Ethan chuckled and took Mark’s hand again, holding the latter’s left one with his right and also placing his own left hand on Mark’s arm. “The viewing is about to begin,” he murmured.

“Are you ready to see him?” asked Mark. Ethan shook his head but walked forward anyway, stepping into the next room where there was a beautiful oak casket, one side of it open to present the lifeless body it held inside. Ethan stepped closer, clinging to Mark like a physical lifeline. Finally, he peered into the casket.

Ethan let out a little gasp as he stared at his brother’s corpse. He looked so pale. If he hadn’t just cried for twenty minutes in the bathroom, he would have bursted into tears as he predicted. But not only had his tear ducts already been emptied, he just didn’t have the energy to cry.

The rest of the funeral was a blur. Every so often Mark would give Ethan little back rubs or squeeze his hand to let him know he’s still there. On the way home, Ethan leaned his head against the car window as he played with the ends of his sleeves.

“How do you feel?” asked Mark.

“On the scale from earlier. . . 1,” Ethan answered truthfully.

Mark frowned. “What can I do to help?”

A sigh escaped Ethan’s lips as he looked at the nearby restaurant signs whizzing past them. “Buy me food and cuddle with me when we get home?” he asked hopefully. Mark smiled.

“As long as I’m big spoon.”

—

“Hey Mark?”

Mark peered down at Ethan, who was lying on the couch with his head in Mark’s lap. “Yeah?” he acknowledged.

“I can’t get this thought out of my head. Ever since we stepped into that funeral home, it’s. . . I can’t stop thinking about something,” Ethan said, clearly bothered.

“Oh. What is it? Should I be concerned?” asked Mark.

Ethan closed his eyes. “No! No, it’s just that, well. . . the pain I feel because of my brother’s death is almost unbearable. I keep thinking about how if I actually committed suicide that one time I tried, you’d have to bear this same pain.”

Mark thought for a moment. “Well, not exactly the same. I mean, you lost a brother. When you tried to do that bad thing, you and I were only friends.”

“Best friends,” Ethan corrected. “And what if it would’ve been now? You’d be losing your boyfriend.”

“I love you so much,” said Mark. “If you weren’t here with me today, if you were gone, I don’t know how I’d keep going. I wouldn’t end my own life over losing you, but it would take me years to be happy again.”

“I’m that important to you?” Ethan asked, staring up at Mark.

“Of course, baby. You have no idea.”

Ethan chuckled. “Well, if I ever get suicidal again, knowing how much my death would affect you is going to make it a lot harder for me to end up actually killing myself.”

“That’s great, actually,” said Mark. “Hey, how are you comfortable talking about this? Doesn’t suicide and all that kind of trigger you?”

“Yeah, but I have you here, so I’m okay,” Ethan responded with a smile. It made Mark feel just as important as he claimed Ethan to be.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I post chapter 12 today? I'm not sure yet. It's completely different from this chapter and I've been anxious about posting it since I started this fic.


	12. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to post chapter 12 today. I'm not very good at writing smut (which is basically all this chapter is), but I did my best for the sake of the fic. Hopefully it's not too bad, and the chapter as a whole is okay.
> 
> The last two chapters will be posted tomorrow. I'm so grateful for every kudos I've gotten, and I really didn't think this fic would get this many hits either! Thank you all so much, you've made me want to post more every day and calmed my anxiety about people possibly not liking what I've written.
> 
> Anyway, happy reading!

“I hate the way I think, and the fact that I can’t control certain thoughts I have. Right now, while I’m sane, I think that suicide is a horrible idea. But when I’m depressed, it’s like all of the logic I used to have is gone, and suicide seems like the only way out of my misery. It becomes almost like a comfort, knowing that if things get bad enough, I can end my life whenever I want to. So, when I’m back in my right mind again, it freaks me out that I could even think like that.”

“Are you afraid of your non-logical side doing something your logical side wouldn’t?”

“Of course I am. I’m terrified of it. It’s almost like every day could be my last, because if you think about it, what if I wake up in the morning and I have to deal with an episode, and it gets bad enough that I try to commit suicide again? Every day, I sit here scared that this one might be my last. Like I might not be alive tomorrow.”

“Being afraid of your thoughts and your mind will keep you in the same place. To get better and move past depression, you have to beat your mind.”

Ethan sighed. “I know it’s important to talk about this stuff, but I’m so tired of it all. Maybe we could find something to do to take my mind off of things for a while?”

“I have something we can do. You have to tell me if you think you’re ready for it, though.”

“What are you talking about?” Ethan was silenced as Mark kissed him, moving his body closer to him and running his tongue over Ethan’s bottom lip. Ethan gasped, letting Mark’s tongue into his mouth for only a few seconds before pulling away.

“Is this okay?” Mark asked him, out of breath already and placing a hand on Ethan’s thigh. Ethan gulped and nodded. “Okay, tell me if you’re uncomfortable at any point and we can stop, alright?”

“I want to do this,” Ethan breathed, letting Mark slip a hand underneath his shirt to feel Ethan’s soft skin. “I can do this.”

Mark slid his hand further into Ethan’s shirt, his fingers grazing Ethan’s nipple. He swiped his thumb over it, just a brush, and Ethan instinctively moved to grab onto Mark’s arm.

“I didn’t even think about doing that, it just sort of happened,” said Ethan, glancing down at his hand on Mark’s arm.

Mark chuckled and gave Ethan’s nipple a pinch, noticing how the latter’s grip on his arm tightened. “It’s because you like the things I’m doing.”

“Then keep doing them,” Ethan said, leaning forward to kiss his boyfriend again. The kiss broke moments later, only for Mark to pull off Ethan’s shirt and then remove his own. They found each other’s lips again, Mark gradually leaning into Ethan more until he had practically pinned him down on the bed, looming over him. Ethan pulled away from their kiss and gasped, overwhelmed yet living in the moment, wanting more of Mark.

“You’re beautiful,” Mark whispered before diving back in, kissing along Ethan’s neck while working open the boy’s jeans. Ethan whined and reached his hands down to help, finally getting his pants unbuttoned and unzipped and shimmying out of them, throwing them across the floor. Mark ground his hips down onto Ethan’s, briefly pressing their erections against each other. Ethan breathlessly called out Mark’s name, writhing around on the bed in anticipation.

“How come you’re so needy?” asked Mark, taking off his own pants. “You used to be so nervous about doing this.”

“I don’t know,” Ethan responded honestly. “But isn’t it hot that I’m so desperate for you?”

“Yes,” Mark hissed, holding himself up with one arm and stripping off his boxers with the other. Of course, Ethan’s eyes went straight to Mark’s dick, and wow. He’d seen him naked when he was soft, but hard. . . He had to be at least a good seven inches, probably more. Ethan finally tore his eyes away from the sight, hooking his fingers in his own boxers and glancing up at Mark, peering into dark, lustful eyes.

“It’s okay, baby, you can take them off,” whispered Mark. “You know I think every inch of your body is perfect.”

Ethan slid his boxers down, Mark helping him get them off of his feet and toss them on the floor with the other clothes. There they were, both naked in bed together for the first time. Mark looked Ethan up and down, admiring his form.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” he said then, running a hand down Ethan’s chest. “You should see yourself right now.”

Ethan couldn’t seem to speak for two reasons: a part of him was still anxious about the situation, and he could only focus on Mark, so much so that he found it difficult to form proper sentences.

“How much do you want to do tonight?” Mark asked, and Ethan had to get his brain to function long enough to answer the question.

“All the way, Mark. I want—I want you inside me,” he admitted, his pupils blown wide as he stared up at his lover. Mark smirked, reaching into the nightstand drawer for the bottle of lube he’d been keeping there (so that he could be prepared when this day finally came).

“I’m going to prep you then, okay?” Mark squirted a generous amount of lube onto three off his fingers, rubbing it around a bit to fully coat them. He lowered his hand to Ethan’s hole, and the latter spread his legs a bit without having to be asked to. Mark circled a finger around his entrance before slowly and gently slipping it inside, watching Ethan’s face carefully for signs of pain.

“God, that’s weird,” said Ethan, and they both laughed. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Mark moved his finger around for a minute, eventually asking, “Do you want another?” Ethan nodded in response, and Mark slid a second finger in right beside the first, moving them around inside of him for a bit before scissoring them. Ethan sucked in a breath, and Mark ceased his movements. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a bit of a stretch down there,” he replied awkwardly.

“Well, that’s what’s supposed to be happening.” Mark found Ethan’s awkwardness in the situation endearing, and he felt so special because Ethan trusted Mark enough to let this finally happen despite the anxiety.

“Right. You can continue.” Mark kept stretching him with two fingers, at one point leaning down to pepper kisses along Ethan’s jaw and neck. When he thought Ethan was comfortable enough, he added a third finger.

Ethan seemed fine, but not pleasured, so Mark pushed his fingers deeper and curled them, brushing against Ethan’s prostate. The latter moaned, his back arching, and he gripped the sheets beneath him. “Found it,” Mark murmured with a smirk. Moments later, he removed all three of his fingers and got into position, lining up his hard cock with Ethan’s hole. 

“Be gentle,” Ethan requested, and Mark nodded.

“Of course. It’ll hurt at first, but I promise it’s going to be worth it soon.” He pressed in slowly, nearly losing himself in the feeling of Ethan’s ass enveloping his cock. Ethan’s face scrunched up in pain, but he didn’t show any signs of wanting to stop, so Mark kept going until his cock was buried all the way inside Ethan, who took quite a few deep breaths before giving Mark the okay to move. Carefully, Mark pulled almost all the way out and pushed back in, watching Ethan’s head press back into the pillows as he gasped.

“Fuck, keep going, please,” he begged. Mark repeated his movements, soon finding a rhythm that was slow enough to avoid hurting Ethan but not too slow, and hard enough to pleasure Ethan but not too hard. After a while though, it seemed to not be enough for the younger of the two, as he called out, “Harder! Please Mark, fuck, fuck me harder!” Ethan grabbed onto Mark’s shoulders, moaning like a slut.

“Holy shit, that’s hot. Keep moaning for me, you sound so sexy,” Mark groaned. He snapped his hips forward again and again as Ethan practically screamed in pleasure. 

“Fuck, why did it have to take me so long to let this happen?” Ethan whined. “You’re making me feel—fuck, right there!” Mark made sure to hit Ethan’s prostate on every thrust, sweat forming on both of their bodies as they grew closer to climaxing. Ethan came first without even having to touch his cock, and Mark followed suit after two more thrusts, spilling his seed deep inside Ethan before pulling out and falling onto the bed next to him. 

When they had both calmed down and their panting turned into deep, slow breathing, Ethan reached a hand down to feel the warm cum dripping from his ass. “This is gross,” he said uncomfortably, and Mark laughed.

“I know. But it feels good in the moment, right?” 

“You’re just lucky I love you,” Ethan responded, getting up to go clean himself up a bit in the bathroom. 

“I took your virginity, haha,” Mark teased, and Ethan scoffed in the hallway.

He called back, “No you didn’t!”

“I meant your ass’ virginity,” Mark explained, hardly able to speak through his own laughter. “Fuck, I regret saying it now.”

Ethan came back a few moments later, turning off the light and laying down beside Mark. “Well, my ass is gonna hurt like hell when I wake up tomorrow.” 

Mark pulled Ethan close and threw the covers over both of them, saying, “You’ll get used to it. We are going to do this often, right?”

“Yeah, now that I’ve done it once I see that it’s not so scary,” said Ethan, a yawn following the end of his sentence. “But maybe that’s just because I feel so comfortable around you.”

Warmth spread through Mark’s chest at the comment, and he leaned to the side to kiss Ethan long and deep. “I love you, Eth.”

Ethan turned over on his side and let Mark spoon him, the exhaustion from sex bringing him close to sleep quickly. “I love you too.”


	13. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's technically tomorrow even though I haven't gone to sleep yet, and I was rereading the last two chapters to distract myself from the fact that I actually just got rejected by someone... well anyway I decided I just have to post these chapters now. Here we go :)

Ethan looked out the large windows into the backyard, where Mark was preparing everything for the bonfire. They were expecting guests; Amy and Kathryn had already arrived. Amy headed to the bathroom while Kathryn joined Ethan in the kitchen, leaning on the counter next to him.

“How have you been?” she asked. “We haven’t really talked in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Ethan replied, picking at the dead skin on his fingers. “We’ve seen each other a lot less since I moved out, huh?”

“You don’t care about hiding them anymore?” Kathryn inquired, looking down at the faint scars on Ethan’s forearms. 

“It’s hot outside, and I didn’t want to be sweating my ass off in a long-sleeved shirt,” said Ethan. “And I guess the scars are a part of who I am now. I still hate seeing them, but there’s nothing I can do to get them off of my body. Might as well just deal with it, right?”

Kathryn nodded. “Right. How are things with Mark?”

Ethan smiled and tried to decide how much information he wanted to disclose. “Oh, you know. . .”

“Have you had sex yet?”

A fire ignited inside Ethan at the question, and he turned his body fully towards her with a huge smile. “Yeah, last week. I can’t even describe how great it was. But aside from the sex, Mark is just so good to me. I don’t think I’ll ever feel like I deserve him. Throughout everything, he’s been right there with me. It makes me feel safe, you know? And comforted. Don’t tell him I said that, though. I don’t want his ego getting any bigger.” Ethan was beaming then, his eyes sparkling with adoration.

Amy entered the room, startling Ethan as she came up behind him. “You’re finally meeting the Mark I knew for four years,” she said. “I’m going to go help him set up the chairs and everything.”

When Amy was out of earshot, Kathryn leaned in and said, “If anyone deserves Mark, it’s you. I don’t know anyone else who could make you this happy.”

Ethan noticed then how ecstatic he must seem with that awfully cheesy grin on his face. “T-Thanks,” he stuttered, heat rising to his cheeks.

Eventually, Tyler and Evan showed up, and everyone gathered outside for the fire. They all joked, laughed, smiled, and reminisced on things of the past. Ethan could hardly take his eyes off of the fire, the flames entrancing him as he let all of his thoughts flood his brain. He tore his eyes away from the light to look at Mark, tapping him on the arm. The latter looked up at Ethan and smiled, fondness in his dark eyes as he drowned out the sound of Tyler telling a funny story to everyone in favor of focusing completely on Ethan.

“Thank you,” Ethan breathed, his eyes darting over all of the features on Mark’s face.

Mark took Ethan’s hand in his and asked, “For what?”

“For not leaving me,” Ethan said, almost too quietly. 

“Why would I have ever wanted to leave you?” questioned Mark.

“I could hardly deal with myself every day before you knew about any of my issues,” Ethan explained, “and when we started dating, I shifted all of the weight onto you. I kind of became your responsibility.”

“I wanted to help you ever since I found out,” Mark reminded him. 

“But I still felt like a burden. Yeah, you wanted to help, but it would have been better for you if there were no problems for you to fix,” Ethan continued. “I used to be so afraid you’d leave me.”

“I’m never leaving you,” Mark said honestly. “Not ever. I promise.”

Ethan smiled. “I know. That’s why I’m thanking you!” He giggled, and Mark’s heart melted. “Gosh, I used to get so hung up on the idea that every day could be my last. Remember how I told you I live in fear of not being alive tomorrow?”

Mark nodded. “Has that changed?”

“Yeah,” said Ethan, squeezing Mark’s hand lovingly. “I don’t have those thoughts anymore. Maybe I’m starting to trust myself more.”

“I’m glad,” Mark responded. “So you feel more in control of your thoughts?”

“Exactly. There’s a chance I’m a little bit worried that this might just be a phase, but hey, it’s still progress, right?”

Mark leaned forward and kissed him, relishing in the taste of peppermint on Ethan’s lips. “Yes. I’m so, so proud of you.”

As the night went on, Ethan let his mind slip further into relaxation, for once forgetting his worries about all the little things that could happen. At one point, he wandered inside to get himself a drink, deciding not to turn the light on since he could see enough with the fire glowing outside. Clearly he made a mistake, though, because when he grabbed a glass from the cabinet, he tripped on something that had been left on the floor and dropped the glass, watching with wide eyes as it fell to the ground and broke into pieces. He crouched down to inspect the damage, knowing better than to try to clean it up with his bare hands. His eyes landed on one of the larger shards of glass, and he froze.

Mark turned around at the sound of something breaking, looking through the window to see Ethan crouching down next to a small pile of broken glass. His first thought was to rush in to help him clean it up and make sure he was okay, but something stopped him. The look on Ethan’s face, like he had made some sort of massive discovery.

Ethan peered down at the jagged shard of glass, its edges sharp. He had never used broken glass to self-harm before. What would it feel like to use broken glass to cut up his arms?

He took a deep breath, exhaling shakily and glancing at each individual piece scattered across the floor within a two foot radius. What would it feel like?

He held his arms out in front of him and raked his eyes over his existing scars. What would it feel like?

Mark sat and watched Ethan stand up, walking across the room to grab a broom before sweeping up and throwing away the shards of glass from his accident. Moments later, he walked back outside and returned to his chair, faintly smiling to himself.

“You looked awfully lost in thought there for a minute,” said Mark. “You dropped a glass?”

“Yeah,” Ethan breathed, looking up at Mark. “Yeah, and for a second I wondered what it would be like to self-harm with glass shards.”

Mark cocked his head. “Why didn’t you do it?”

Ethan smiled and turned back to look at the giant flames heating up the backyard, the smoke rising into the starry sky. A genuine smile crossed his face as he said:

“Not worth it.”

—

Mark kissed down Ethan’s stomach, hooking his fingers in the boy’s boxers and pulling them down at an agonizingly slow pace. “What are your thoughts on marriage?” he asked, a question much too innocent to match his lustful tone.

“Why? You gonna marry me?” asked Ethan, his hands clawing at the bedsheets as he tried to keep his cool despite the arousal flooding through him as Mark’s breath ghosted over his hard cock.

“Maybe,” Mark whispered, finally pulling Ethan’s boxers down enough to free his erection. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Well it seems a little hasty to be marrying me when we’ve only been dating for—fuck Mark—“ Ethan got choked up before he could finish his sentence, looking down at Mark, who pressed a kiss to the head of Ethan’s dick. “Can we maybe have this conversation later?”

Mark chuckled lowly. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re so desperate for me to get you off, aren’t you?” Ethan nodded, and Mark finally went to work on giving him the best blowjob of his life.

Mark knew they weren’t going to have that conversation later.

But he did know that by this same time next year, Ethan would have an engagement ring on his finger.


	14. A New Tomorrow

One Year Later

Ethan looked up to glance out the window, taking in the sight of the bright sun shining down on tall trees, the leaves changing color as summer came to a close. He had the chore of washing dishes while Mark went grocery shopping for the meal they were planning to make tonight. A smile tugged at the corners of Ethan’s mouth as he waited in anticipation for dinner, fully prepared to allow himself to eat as much as he pleased that evening. He scrubbed the last faint stain off of a plate and rinsed it off before placing it on the rack to dry along with the others. He paused to stretch, leaning over to open the window enough to let some of the breeze in from outside. What a lovely day.

Many of the problems Ethan used to have seemed almost silly to him now, as he felt a sense of pride in moving past them. He briefly saw his own reflection in the soup spoon he held in his right hand, taking notice of how nice he looked on this particular afternoon. Despising his body and physical features in the past was so uncalled for--not to mention completely irrational. He began to understand what Mark saw in his appearance; he could say now that he was definitely attractive, at least somewhat. It felt good to be able to compliment himself from time to time and really believe his own words--no, more than good. All of the negative feelings he had towards his own form a year ago had dissipated, and what stood in its place was a plethora of positive ways to see himself. Ethan couldn’t deny the warm feelings in his chest at having the ability to look at himself and finally like what he saw.

He remembered that the most prominent motive he had when he self-harmed for the first time was his raging self-hatred, burning hotter than a forest fire. He could see the irony in it now: leaving permanent scars on his body only made him dislike his appearance more, so what kind of reason to self-harm was body insecurity? He recalled his last relapse, which probably happened about six months ago. Before that last relapse, Ethan would count the days since the last time he had hurt himself. Once, he relapsed after only 16 days. Another time, he had relapsed after 52. Now, Ethan could hardly think of how many months ago it had been since the last time, let alone a specific number of days. He supposed it was because he was finally done with self-harm. He didn’t really see the appeal in it anymore anyway.

Sleepless nights followed by taxing depressive episodes seemed like a distant memory. Ethan never needed to go on medication to help his depression. As time went on and other aspects of his life improved, he found himself naturally feeling lighter and far less frequently depressed. Insomnia became rare, which might honestly be due to spending each night being held in Mark’s arms until tiredness caught up to them. Whatever the reason, Ethan could scratch insomnia off of his list of problems.

Relief spread through his chest at the realization that the challenges he faced in the past are and will forever be just that: in the past. The suicide attempt that had haunted him for months no longer bothered him. If anything, it gave him another reason to be thankful for being alive today. The one (and only) argument he had had with Mark last year, well, he could hardly remember what was said, leaving him unable to look back on it and be upset. Forgive and forget, right? The crushing weight of feeling like a burden slowly lifted from him in previous months, replaced by the feeling of being cared for and helped by his friends and significant other. Being unable to do certain things and have new experiences because of anxiety only pushed him to get past the nerves and do the things he wanted to do, and it resulted in new knowledge, experience, and quite honestly the best sex of his life.

Even the death of his brother, Andrew, he had begun to dwell over less as well. Ethan still missed him, but as Mark once told him, a year of passing time had brought him to the stage where he looked back on the good times with a smile, appreciative of the great memories he had with Andrew rather than being depressed over not being able to make more. Ethan’s brother was certainly taken before his time, and he deserved to live a long life, but the pain Ethan felt because of the death lessened each day, Andrew becoming more of a once-in-a-while thought instead of an everyday grievance. People move on from things. In a way, Ethan thought of it as a survival instinct. 

Not that he had become an expert on dealing with the issues he used to have, but Ethan felt as though he did have some wisdom to share by this point. In his dark days, he used to think that ceasing to exist would be better than living in a cruel world where he received much worse than what he deserved, but after looking back on so many good memories he had made with those he cared about over the years, he realized that if he didn’t exist; if his life ended, he wouldn’t be able to make any more of those good memories. Even when bad memories are made, too, no time is ever wasted. You learn from everything you do, whether or not you are aware of it. It’s also important to remember that no matter what memories you make, there is beauty in the world, despite all of the greed, anger, and hatred. There is always balance between good and evil; without this balance, how could people tell which is which?

After years of struggling with so many different things, Ethan learned that one of the steps towards recovery is to stop pitying yourself; to stop feeling bad for yourself so that you can put all of your effort into getting better. You are strong just for continuing to live each day. Even in your weakest moments, you are strong. At first, Ethan felt so ashamed of himself and so weak and vulnerable that anyone finding out about his issues seemed like it would be mortifying. In retrospect, asking for help doesn’t make you look weak, it only makes you seem eager to improve. And if and when you start to receive help from friends or family or a professional, the most important thing to remember is that wanting help is never, ever selfish.

In spite of any mental or physical problems a person may have, everyone is beautiful in their own way (inside and out). While working hard to stop being a bulimic, Mark helped to teach Ethan that being healthy is so much more important than physical appearance. Over the past year of his life, Ethan gradually learned to love himself (on all levels, not just physical) by praising himself for little things he’d do each day. On Mark’s birthday, Ethan woke up early and made him breakfast. Not only did he feel good about it for the rest of the day, but he gave himself a pat on the back for doing something nice, and the praise stuck with him. Now, two months since that day, Ethan was proud of his traits, two of them being his thoughtfulness and generosity. The only problem he still seemed to have with himself was still physical: the scars that still showed on his forearms, though they are faint. With persuasion, however, he decided that scars should be a solemn reminder of what he had been through, but never a thing to regret having. They’re part of who he is now, and he could learn to accept them just like he had learned to accept everything else.

There will always be a reason not to do something. Of course, this pertains to bad opportunities as well as good ones. If an urge arises to do something generally considered bad, know that there are more reasons not to do it than there are reasons to do it. If things get bad enough to the point of wanting to end your own life, remind yourself that it will never be truly worth it to do such a thing. Always, there is someone there who loves you, even if they don’t show it every day. Someone would be sad if you got hurt or passed away. And not only should you stay alive for them, you should stay alive for yourself. You still have memories to make, money to make, friends to have fun with, sunsets to watch, moments to share, opportunities to laugh, and time to become happier. You can keep living. Everyone has a future, and that future is filled with both good and bad, so don’t get too down if one little thing goes wrong.

Some problems will stick with you, but that’s okay. Without the negative things in your life, the positive things wouldn’t seem as incredible. Ethan still struggles with anxiety, and he still has panic attacks. But even when he does, they’re much less intense than they used to be, and much less frequent. He used to be embarrassed about crying over things, but crying is healthy. Crying is okay. Letting yourself express the emotions you have rather than hiding them away and ignoring them can be the most freeing part of your day-to-day life. Pain always lessens over time, as long as you acknowledge the negative feelings you’re having.

It does get better. It can take anywhere from a few months to a decade, but it gets better. Even when you have no hope left, if you choose to keep fighting, you can claw your way back up the hole you found yourself falling into. And it will be worth it, all of that effort and all of that time you spent. When you finally find yourself happy again, you’ll look back and be so proud of yourself.

Life is fragile. It should always be appreciated.

Ethan, realizing he had been staring out the window for quite some time now, turned the faucet off and dried his hands with a washcloth, finally done with the dishes. The sun gradually began to set, inching towards the horizon and casting an orange glow upon Ethan’s face. He turned at the sound of the front door opening, a smile finding its way onto his face when he saw Mark come in with a bag of groceries. “You’re home!” Ethan exclaimed, hugging Mark as soon as he had put the groceries onto the counter.

“I was only gone for like, an hour. You okay?” asked Mark.

Ethan realized then how odd his enthusiasm must have sounded. “Yeah, it just seemed like a lot longer I guess. I kind of got lost in thought while scrubbing all the plates. And what took you an hour if you were just getting a few groceries?”

Mark laughed and started to unbag the items he bought. “That does sound like something you would do. Are you ready to make dinner?” he asked, ignoring Ethan’s question.

To really make the evening romantic, Mark lit a few candles in the center of the table while Ethan strained the spaghetti. He closed the curtains and dimmed the lights, which earned an “ooh, fancy,” from Ethan. While eating, Mark kept sending smiles Ethan’s way until the latter finally questioned the behavior.

“Something’s up, I can tell,” Ethan said with a grin. “Tell me!”

Mark sighed contentedly and reached his hands across the table, which Ethan gratefully took. “I’ve been wanting to tell you just how proud of you I am. A year and a half ago, I had no idea there was anything you were going through. After a while, when you told me everything, I made it my mission to help you move past it all. But I have to say, where you are now and what you’ve accomplished, that’s all you. You did all of this. I can’t even begin to explain how proud I am to be with someone who has improved so much over the course of a year.”

Ethan squeezed Mark’s hands, saying, “Come on, you know you helped me the whole time.”

“Yes, but you never would have gotten this far without trying as hard as you have. It makes me so happy to have seen you put so much effort into getting better, especially with as much trouble as you were having,” Mark explained.

“I love you,” Ethan breathed.

“I love you too. And that’s why I want to do this.” Mark let go of Ethan’s hands, removing something from his pocket as he stood from his chair and walked over to the other side of the table. 

“Ethan, ever since we met I had a feeling you’d become a big part of my life. We were best friends for years, and when we started dating I knew I never wanted to let you go.” Ethan thought he might have been dreaming; his head started to spin as he watched Mark get down on one knee. “We’ve been through so much together, and I want to share thousands more moments with you. And when you tried to take your own life all those months ago, the only thought I kept having was that I’d never get to kiss you again or see the look on your face when I would ask you the question I’m about to ask you now.” Ethan knew what was happening, he just couldn’t believe it, even as Mark went on.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, knowing that we’re forever bonded by love and every experience we’ve shared up until now. So, since I’ve been rambling for so long and need to get to the point--” Ethan laughed, his eyes watering as his heart thrummed in his chest and he melted at Mark’s speech. “Ethan Nestor, will you marry me?” 

Ethan didn’t even look at the ring as Mark opened the box. He was too focused on the genuine adoration in his boyfriend’s eyes. All of the emotions swirling around in Ethan’s head spilled out in the form of a single tear slipping down his face as he gasped and said, “Yes. Yes, I love you, god, yes.” Mark’s face lit up with elation as he pulled Ethan into a kiss, wiping away the few tears that had fallen onto the brunette’s face with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring. When they pulled away, Mark carefully slipped the ring onto Ethan’s finger, who stared at it in amazement.

“Holy shit, that’s gorgeous,” he said, eyes wide and glued to the new proof of their engagement. He only managed to tear his eyes away when he realized something. “Wait, is this why you were gone for an hour? You bought this ring?”

Mark nodded. “Guilty. I knew you’d look perfect wearing it.” Ethan pulled him into a tight hug, wanting it to last forever but deciding otherwise when dozens of ideas popped into his head.

“We have to pick out a venue for the wedding! And a date! And flower arrangements and suits and dresses for the bridesmaids because I know we’re both guys but we still need to have bridesmaids, oh and we have to hire a band and a caterer and we get to pick the food--”

Mark put his hands on Ethan’s shoulders and laughed at his excitement. “You need to slow down, baby. I know it’s going to be cool to pick everything out, but you have a long time to think about it, okay?” He let his hands slide down Ethan’s arms and find his hands, holding them again. “Let’s take this one step at a time, just like we did when we were helping you out last year. You can do that, can’t you?”

Ethan took a deep breath and tried to slow down all of the thoughts whizzing around in his brain. His eyes met Mark’s for a split second, and in that instant he knew he was right where he wanted to be. “You’re right. I can take things one step at a time.” A quick glance at the darkening sky and the stars shining above reassured him. “After all:

“There’s always tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this fic has been a lot of fun for me, and also a bit of a challenge. Once again, I want to thank everyone who has given this a shot and especially those who have been kind enough to leave kudos. I appreciate everything, and I'm so glad I seemed to have gotten some people interested in this little idea I had.
> 
> I'm working on another fic right now, and if I keep working at a steady pace I should have it ready to post in just a few days.
> 
> If there's anything you'd like to comment, go ahead! It's really nice seeing what you guys have to say about my work. Other than that, thanks again!


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